


Another Kind of Island

by Emmilyne



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Alpha/Omega, But no submissive stuff, F/M, Fantasy, Omega Verse, Post 2x23, Romance, Science Fiction, Sex Pollen, olicity - Freeform, only not really but close enough to fit the trope, smut and plot, soul mates, total equal partnership
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 121,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmilyne/pseuds/Emmilyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Futura was the state of the art biotech company out to change the face of the health food industry.  They were also the company that was going to save QC after Slade and Isabel left it in ruins. </p>
<p>But Futura has plans for Oliver and Felicity that has nothing to do with the company and everything to do with revolutionizing human kind.  </p>
<p>Post Season 2 AU that started out as a way to combine my favorite smut tropes and ended up as a sci-fi, fantasy adventure (that revolves heavily around smut).</p>
<p>
  <strong>From February 23 to 27th I have a poll up on Twitter to help me chose my next WIP to work on.  To vote check it out <a href="https://twitter.com/Emmilynestill/status/966412639025770496">here.</a></strong>
</p>
<p>
  <img/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pepper Potts

**Author's Note:**

> Completely AU after Season 2 episode 23. Also, in this universe, Marvel characters are fictional and DC is real life. Enjoy!

June 2013

 

“Tell me again why we didn’t take the jet,” Oliver asked, sighing.  He tossed the bright white binder to the seat across from them in the limo and slouched back with a groan.  He shifted restlessly in his seat, reminding Felicity of a little boy in Temple on High Holy days.

Rolling her eyes, Felicity wondered if Oliver was being purposefully obtuse or if he just hadn’t paid one lick of attention the last _three_ times she answered this question.  She didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm from her voice as she explained, “Because Futura Labs is a five-hour drive from Starling, but a two-hour drive from the Coast City Airport, so it would actually take longer to fly.”

Oliver grunted, rolling his head from side to side and stretching his neck.  “The plane is more comfortable.”

“Than the plush leather of QC’s best limo?”

“You can walk around on the plane,” Oliver argued.

“Do you have any idea how much jet fuel costs?” Felicity countered, her eyes still on her tablet as she raised a brow at him, knowing full well that he was just arguing because he was bored.

“Aren’t we rich again?”

“We?” Felicity lifted her challenging gaze to Oliver, who just smiled back innocently.  Innocent, her ass.  “Well, _we_ may have gotten QC back, but _we_ aren’t going to keep it for long if we throw away our limited funds on jet fuel just so you can stretch your legs.  And…” she held up a folder with the company ‘Futura’ written across the top, “…if we don’t get a _huge_ influx of money.”

But the bastard just grinned at her.  “I’m better at spending money than saving it.  Maybe you should be CEO.”

“Sure, with my degrees in IT and Cyber Security.”

“Better than my degrees in nothing.” 

Felicity looked up at him and Oliver met her gaze, completely unapologetic.  He was already a handful and they had another hour left in this stupid, if plush, car.  “Oliver, you just got your company back—”

“And maybe the best decision I could make for it is to find a competent CEO.”

“Oliver,” Felicity sighed, “you’re only saying that because you can’t sit still for five hours and you’re tired of reading—”

“Horrifically boring science documents that make no sense?”

“Interesting, but challenging, business proposals from a company dedicated to using natural substances to improve people’s health and well-being as well as giving us enough money to rebuild the Applied Sciences Building that we blew up just a few months ago?” Felicity corrected sweetly, tilting her head to the side and adjusting her glasses. 

“That was necessary.”

“So is this.”

Oliver looked almost depressed as he turned to stare out at the passing scenery.  There were definitely parts of business that were not for him.  Taking pity, Felicity grabbed a bottle of the Futura Juice they had been sent as a sample.  “How about I finish the reading and you sample the product?”

Catching the plastic bottle easily, Oliver narrowed his eyes at it.  “Guava, pomegranate, and banana?  You know I hate juice, right?”  But he pried the top off the bottle anyway.

Generally, Oliver only drank water.  He was kind of a closet health food nut, which made sense because, er, look at the man.  Felicity had a hard time criticizing when the end result was so … ok, nope … not going down that rabbit hole.  She needed to keep her mind on business. 

“It’s good for you,” Felicity argued.  Or she certainly hoped it was, for QC’s sake.

“Hmmm,” Oliver hummed, but he took a long swallow and Felicity averted her eyes to keep from watching his tanned throat… wow, she had been cooped in this car too long. “It’s actually kinda good.  Sweet, but good.”

“Well, now you have something to discuss with Dr. Young and his colleagues.”

Oliver laughed.  “It will be good to have something, because _this_ ,” he gestured to the binder and tablet lying across from them, “makes my brain numb.”

Felicity chuckled.  “Isn’t that why I’m here?”

“You’re here…” Oliver leaned in close.  Closer than their normal comfortable distance and Felicity instinctively held her breath.  “…because I couldn’t do a _damn_ thing without you.”

Her heart jumped and sped up.  Wow…that…that was not the usual.  Felicity knew that Oliver felt, well, mostly felt, like he needed her…as a friend, as a partner, and as his EA … but, he didn’t usually up and say stuff like that.  It felt kinda…intimate.  And he was really close.  Like inside her personal bubble close. 

By the time Oliver left her personal space, Felicity was blushing down to her toes.  Damn her pale complexion.  When she could finally breathe again, she scrambled for words, feeling as flustered as she had when he first came down to her desk in the IT department, with his cute little smile and his puppy dog eyes.

When her brain caught up, Felicity considered arguing the point, telling Oliver that he was more capable than he gave himself credit for, but, in the end, she decided to cut the tension instead and said dryly, “That’s frighteningly true.  Which is why I’m here as _just_ your Executive Assistant and not as the VP of Applied Sciences.”

“You’re not _just_ my anything,” Oliver drawled with a smirk that was far too sexy to be appropriate, before throwing back the last of his health drink like it was an expensive stout and melting into the leather seats like they were made for him.  Maybe they were.

Oliver had been more relaxed in the last month, since Slade had been defeated and the courts had returned everything he and Isabel had stolen.  The takeover had been declared illegal and Oliver and Thea got back their legacy.  Crime fighting had been pretty low key and his mood was good.  It was nice.

Except, the way Oliver was looking at her now, his eyes intense and considering, was just…not the way one looks at a friend.  This went beyond a _little more_ relaxed.  This was…she didn’t know _what_ this was.  Felicity grabbed a bottle of water, her throat suddenly dry.

_Then_ Oliver announced, “You’re my Pepper Potts.”

Felicity choked on the water just as it hit the back of her throat.  “ _What_?”  Her heart-rate doubled at the images his words produced.  “I knew I’d regret that movie marathon,” she muttered, trying for a joke.  But internally, she was screaming _what the hell does that mean?_ Pepper Potts to his Tony Stark?He had to be kidding.  It was cruel joke.  _Frack_ , did Oliver even _know_ what he was doing to her?

“What?” Oliver asked innocently.  _Too_ innocently.  No matter what the situation, innocent never came off as genuine on him.  A side effect of being sex-on-a-stick.  “It’s the perfect comparison.”

Ever since Felicity had suggested they celebrate getting Queen Manor back with a movie marathon instead of a big, garish Queen style party, Oliver had been a little too into Marvel movies. 

This, however… _this_ was too much.  Because Pepper Potts may be Tony Stark’s EA, but she was also the love of his life.  “Perfect comparison?  How do you figure?” Felicity managed to ask, having a significant amount of difficulty keeping her voice even.  She was trying really hard not to read too much into this.

Oliver gave her a look as if to say it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “Pepper Potts runs Tony’s entire life, not just his company.  She’s his conscience.  She keeps him from going too far.  She’s his anchor to the real world.  Need I go on?”

Ah no.  _Please_ , no.  This new Oliver was _not_ good for Felicity’s sanity.   Suddenly, the ‘I love you’ from that night in the mansion was on repeat in her head and she had to shake it to clear her thoughts.  “You are painting yourself as Tony Stark, I presume?”

The shit-eating grin Oliver gave her would certainly have done the fictional billionaire proud.  “The similarities _are_ striking.”

Felicity couldn’t help but laugh.  A light-hearted Oliver was rare and irresistible despite the emotional roller coaster it took her on.  “The best superpower is money, eh?”

Oliver laughed and it sounded freer than Felicity had ever heard it.  “Something like that.”

“Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist?”

“Ex-playboy, just like Tony,” Oliver corrected, his dimples flashing, making her stomach somersault.  “Though, I notice you left out ‘genius’”

“I didn’t…” Felicity hadn’t.  Not on purpose, anyway.  “You are plenty smart enough and you know it.”  She averted her eyes, because it was hard to compliment him and _look_ at him, especially when he was in this weird mood.  “I swear you must have failed out of school on purpose, you’re clearly way smarter than you pretend to be.”

“Maybe,” Oliver agreed, his voice low and gravelly, then he leaned closer and if she didn’t know better, she would have said he was flirting with her.  “But, I’m no genius.  That’s your job.”

Felicity cleared her throat, inexplicably dry again.  “You are brilliant in your own way.”  She knew she wouldn’t find him so damn attractive if he wasn’t.  And right now, he was _sooo_ incredibly attractive and really too close… “Sometimes I wonder if you have untreated ADD.  You just can’t sit still.”

Oliver laughed and sat up a bit, breaking the tension enough for Felicity to be able to breathe.  “You don’t think my mom had me tested?  She would have loved to have an excuse for my laziness.”  He didn’t sound bitter, though.  Not at all.  “Besides, I can stare at a target for hours.”

“That’s because, for some reason, you find _that_ interesting.”  How was Oliver so relaxed?  Felicity felt her muscles coiling she was so tense.  She really hoped he wouldn’t notice and, God forbid, call her on it.

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to focus when a life is on the line.”  And still he smiled, comfortable and easy.  Oliver usually would have shut down by now. 

It was odd and it was making Felicity jumpy.  “Anyway…” she muttered, feeling a ramble coming on and trying to control it was like trying to stop a runaway train.  “I don’t really see you as Iron Man, irresponsible billionaire aside, you’re more of an amalgamation of Hawkeye and Captain America.”

Oliver’s eyes lit up and Felicity realized she had made a mistake.  A big one, apparently.  Though she didn’t know what she said to cause it, he leaned back in and the look on his face…oh frack, frack, frack…

“Felicity Smoak, did you just compare me, Oliver Queen, the Arrow, a vigilante, to _Captain America_?”  


She squeaked.  Just a little.  But to be fair, he was reeeealy close and he smelled divine.  “Well…” Felicity had no idea what to say.  She could feel the babbles rise in her chest.  “Well, obviously your morals are more in line with Tony Stark—”

“Obviously—”

“Though, honestly, I think that deep down you are much more of an idealist than you let on and that’s more Steve Rogers… you know the little man… rights of individuals, kinda—”

“ _Felicity_.” Oliver almost purred the word.  Oh God, he wasn’t going to kiss her, was he?

“But that’s not really what I meant, either,” Felicity rambled on, almost hysterically now, “I meant, like in the _field_ you were more like those two.  Hawkeye, because obviously—”  


“Archer.”

“Right, but you also have the hand to hand thing going like Cap and your physique…” Oh, dear God, did Felicity just say that out loud.  Oh no, she had.  She had even gestured to his body like some…like some… _groupie_!

Oliver’s grin widened and he looked completely delighted.  “You think I have the physique of Captain America?” 

“Duh,” burst from her mouth before Felicity could call it back.  Crap!  He was too near.  She wiggled over in the seat to escape his laughing lips.  Wait, why was she trying to escape?  She had been dreaming of this for two _years_.

She needed to keep talking.  Buy herself time.  “But you’re also intelligent in a Steve Rogers kinda way.  With the strategy and the leadership.  You know, more of an in-the-field intelligence than a sciency way…”  Felicity petered off.  What wasn’t better, was it?

Oliver just looked at her, somehow, both soft and intense at once.  “Felicity, some day, I want to be the me you see me as.”

And if _that_ wasn’t the most romantic thing Felicity had ever heard.

No.  No no no.  No!  It was _not_.  And…what was wrong with her?  That damn Slade trick was messing with Felicity’s head.  Oliver had the chance to take things to that next step after Slade was defeated and he hadn’t.

They were just friends.  Oliver did not mean this the way it sounded. 

They were just friends.    He didn’t see her that way.

They were just friends.    _Damn it!!_

“I…I…I…”  Frack, Felicity hasn’t babbled this badly in years.  Ok, months.  “I think you have a little man crush on Steve Rogers.”

Oliver chuckled.  “Every boy secretly wants to grow up and be Steve Rogers.  He’s what every man _should_ be.”

“I don’t believe that every boy wants that.  Maybe just the good ones...”

_Damn it._   Felicity had gone and made it bad again.  That _look_ was back.  The look that she really, really needed to not analyze, but, somehow, made the sexual tension in the backseat of the limo a living breathing thing.  She needed to say something, _anything_ , to break it…or…good God, or what?

“So…uh…” Felicity threw out a Hail Mary Pass.  “I guess that makes Digg Rhody, huh?”

“Well, clearly.  In _every_ way.”

They laughed together and it was a little better. 

“Sara would be Black Widow, of course, while,” Felicity sighed dramatically, starting to have a _little_ fun, “I’m the Girl Friday _again_.”

“Please, Pepper Potts is _so_ much more than a Girl Friday.  And, besides, you’re like…Pepper Potts and JARVIS rolled into one.” 

Felicity laughed out loud, because…  “Seriously, Oliver?   The all-knowing AI?”

“Yup.”    Oliver grinned, clearly proud of himself.  “It’s perfect.”

“Well, I guess that really does make me the most important person in your life.”

“Guess so.”

Whoa.  Okay.  So, Felicity tried to tease him and Oliver _agreed_.  That was not his usual MO.  He wasn’t supposed to _agree_.  He was supposed to _argue_.  Bantering was okay.  This was more than banter.  This was _flirting_.  And that was not, unless something had changed without her knowing it, ok. 

Swallowing, Felicity asked, “So, who’s Roy?”

Oliver shrugged, looking like he couldn’t care less.  “DUM-E?”

An inadvertent laugh bubbled out of her.  “That’s so mean!”

Shrugging again, Oliver just continued to smile at her.

“I’m _so_ going to tell Roy you said that.”

And still Oliver just grinned.  “Go ahead.”

Okay.  It’s was time to end this.  _Or_ have a serious discussion about what the _hell_ Oliver was doing and now was _not_ the time for that.  Felicity glanced down at her tablet.  “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” she told him in what she hoped was a professional tone.  “Do you want to prep—”

Oliver groaned, but then said, “You know what Tony eventually makes Pepper Potts?”

Dear God.  Please don’t say girlfriend!  What was she saying?  Please, _say_ girlfriend!  No, oh God, Felicity didn’t know what she wanted.

“What’s that?” Felicity croaked.

Oliver leaned close and whispered, “His CEO.”  He wagged his eyebrows at her and Felicity wanted to smack him with her tablet.  Wait, what was stopping her?  Oh, yeah, tablets were precious.

Felicity grabbed the nearest binder and waked Oliver on the shoulder.  “Be serious!  You aren’t getting out of this meeting, no matter what you say.”

“Umhmm, _that’s_ what I was trying to do.” 

Felicity just didn’t get him today.  She really didn’t.  “Look, when we get there I will take the lead on all the sciency stuff, all you need to do is charm them and—”

“Make sure they don’t want to use the Applied Science Division to destroy the city like everyone else who has ever tried to use it.”

Well, at least, Oliver was finally being serious.  Sort of.  “Yes, well, that too.”  Felicity frowned and turned back to her tablet, pulling up her information on Futura.  “Though, as far as I can tell, they just look like a healthy, crunchy, biomedical engineering company, whose goal is to help everyone be their fittest, healthiest selves.  They’ll love you.  Just flex your muscles or something.”

Then Felicity patted Oliver’s bicep and she…  “Dear God, I need to stop.”

“Do you?” Oliver asked, his voice back to that dangerously husky tone.

And, _now_ , she was back to accidentally saying things out loud, again.  Crap.  Crap. Crap. 

“Yes, I really really do,” Felicity told him emphatically, but she couldn’t meet his eyes as she said it.  “ _We_ do.” 

The limo came to a stop and Felicity glanced out the tinted window.  They were there.  Show time.  Frack.  Her nerves were shot.  She turned to Oliver and pointed at him.  “No flirting at the meeting!”

Immediately, Oliver’s hands went up in surrender, but instead of looking contrite, or embarrassed, as he normally would at being called out for such a thing, he just gave her that damn faux innocent look again.  He was going to be the death of her.

“I see what you’re doing with this Tony Stark shtick,” Felicity accused.  Though, she _didn’t_ know what he was doing.  Not at all.

Oliver shot her a grin and opened the door.  Once he was out, he reached in to give Felicity a hand.  That, at least, was normal.  “I’ll be on my best behavior,” he promised, as she climbed out.  And she really didn’t know if she believed him or not.

Straightening his suit jacket and buttoning it, Oliver seemed to take a deep breath before turning to the driver, not Digg, unfortunately, and thanking him.  John was at his first OB/GYN appointment with his ex-wife/girlfriend, so it was probably selfish for Felicity to wish he were her to help…

What? Run interference?  Tell her what to do?  Calm her nerves?  She was being neurotic.

Felicity took a deep breath as well, and smelled the clean California air, the scent of citrus in the breeze.  Juice was one of Futura’s main products, so she supposed it made sense that the lab was on an orchard. 

She smoothed down her skirt and did her best to adopt a professional demeanor.   Then it got shot to hell as Felicity felt Oliver’s hand on her lower back and his breath in her nape.  “When other people are around,” he whispered.

It took her a minute to realize he was amending his earlier promise to be on his best behavior.  So Felicity’s, “ _Oliver_ ,” was a little delayed.  All the bastard did was chuckle anyway.

Oliver walked her up to the front door where a smiling Adonis in a suit (which was saying something, because hello, Oliver, right here) and a gorgeous young woman in a lab coat stood.  Actually, Felicity didn’t think she had ever seen a more beautiful scientist outside of tv.  And, of course, those weren’t really scientists.  Of course, Caitlin was beautiful, but _this_ …

It was rather intimidating and Felicity found herself throwing suspicious glances Oliver’s way.  She really hated jealousy, knowing in her gut that she had no right to it, but it was impossible to control.  This woman was _so_ Oliver’s type and he was in a flirty mood and … Felicity needed to jump off the crazy train before it was too late.

Then Oliver whispered in Felicity’s ear, “Is this place being run by high school kids?”  He didn’t make it sound like it was a good thing.

“I don’t think you’ve seen high school kids lately.  High school kids are pimply and skinny,” Felicity whispered, biting back a smile.  “These people are at _least_ college kids.”

“Well, they don’t look old enough to vote.”

Felicity swallowed a giggle and cursed herself for the relief she felt.  She tried to concentrate on looking somewhat professional as the beautiful brunette stepped forward with a wide, unreserved smile.  It was almost strange how happy she looked.  Maybe she was an Oliver Queen fangirl.  Wouldn’t _that_ be something. 

“Mr. Queen, Ms. Smoak, hello!  I cannot _tell_ you how excited we are to have you here.”  And she really did look _that_ excited.  She held out her hand and Felicity took it, half expecting it to be damp with anticipatory anxiety, but it was a cool, firm handshake. 

“I’m Dr. Ann, this is Mr. Brian.”  She gestured to her colleague, who just nodded and looked at them with a bland, unassuming smile.  Clearly not the brains.  Dr. Ann turned to Oliver and shook his hand as well.  “We have been _so_ looking forward to our collaboration.” 

Were those first names or last names?  Because first names would be a little too… _something_.  Hippie, maybe? Preschool teacher?

Oliver shot Felicity a quick glance, his eyebrows up, communicating silently how he found her enthusiasm _interesting_.  Well, as long as he didn’t find _Dr. Ann_ interesting, it was all good. 

“Thank you.  We are very excited to be here as well,” Oliver said, flashing the doctor his patented CEO smile and Felicity relaxed.  They had this. 

“Dr. Young has been held up in the lab.  We thought, perhaps, you’d like a brief tour of the grounds and facilities before we bring you to the conference room?”  Dr. Ann never lost her enthusiastic smile.  It was starting to get kinda creepy.   

Oliver turned to Felicity and gave her his we’re-in-crazy-town-you’re-in-charge smile.  And wasn’t it odd that not only did he have a smile for that, but that Felicity could read it easily. 

Felicity smiled at the doctor and her silent, but gorgeous, companion, and told them, “That would be lovely.”

And it was.  The grounds were spectacular.  The orange and grapefruit groves smelled amazing.  The air was clear and warm.  Felicity half listened as Dr. Ann went on and on about natural this and organic that.  It seemed Futura thought they could save the human race through fruit juice and natural supplements.  Oh well, as long as they weren’t building an earthquake machine.

After over a half an hour on the grounds, Felicity was cursing her heels and the way they sunk into the soft ground.  Dr. Ann gave them a quick tour of the labs, telling them it was getting late and that they would show them around more later. 

Oliver and Felicity were finally led to a large, sleek conference room, where Dr. Ann presented them with a healthy brunch, which, frankly, looked delicious.  They hadn’t eaten in hours. 

“Some of our newest creations,” Dr. Ann was saying, “fruit from our orchards, nut bars, gluten free muffins.”  She said the word gluten as if it were the route of all evil.  “And you _must_ try our newest fruit blend.  It’s a mango, guava, strawberry.  It’s wonderful for the skin as well as for energy and stamina.”

Felicity’s eyes widened, but she took the glass as it was practically shoved into her hands and sipped the straw politely.  “Wow, that really is delicious.”  It was.  She took another long drink and looked over at Oliver.  “It’s _really_ good.” 

Clearly pleased, Dr. Ann filled another glass and turned to Oliver, but he held up his hands.  “Maybe later.  I have as much stamina as I need right now.”  Then the ass winked at her.

Felicity glared at Oliver.  What was wrong with him?  Now, he was flirting with the doctor.  _And_ insulting her by refusing her product.  It was the first time the syrupy sweet smile wavered on Dr. Ann’s face.  If Oliver messed this up, Felicity was going to kill him. 

“Well, you’re missing out,” Felicity told him, giving him a look that was more warning than smile and taking another drink.

He looked back at her placidly and grabbed a peach off the table, taking a bite.

“Well, then,” Dr. Ann’s smile was back, “please enjoy the refreshments and make yourselves at home.  Dr. Young will be with you soon.”  With that, she glided out the door, Mr. Strong-Silent-Type nodding, before closing the door behind them and leaving Oliver and Felicity alone in the large room. 

This left Felicity to watch Oliver’s throat as he chewed and swallowed the peach.  It was even better than before, when he was drinking, and she was having a really difficult time turning her eyes away.  It was mesmerizing really.  His neck was too perfect to be allowed, too masculine and too perfect.  It was a ridiculous that such a thing be _that_ gorgeous, and…

Felicity tried to distract herself with her juice, refilling the glass and stirring it with her straw.  It was both refreshing and filling.  She wasn’t really feeling the need to sample anything else.  Besides, she was overheated all of a sudden.  And it was so mouthwateringly good.  They were going to make a fortune.  This was just what QC needed.

Oliver finished his peach and tossed the pit into a trash can, making it in one, of course, the stupidly perfect man.  Then he wiped his hands and wandered over to the large window, overlooking the groves.  He looked pensive, all of a sudden, his hands buried in his pockets as he looked out with a serious jaw.  Stupid goddamn beautiful serious jaw.

Felicity couldn’t help but stare at Oliver staring at the horizon.  He could have regained his fortune with modeling.  Being a CEO was completely unnecessary.

She had such an urge to touch.  Well, Felicity always wanted to touch, but, usually, there was this strong undercurrent of anxiety and self-preservation that kept her in check.  The odd thing was that that fear…that hesitation, was strangely absent at that moment.  It was rather dangerous, actually.

Maybe it was the flirting in the limo.  Oliver had clearly been sending her signals.  Why had she been so intent on shooting them down?  Felicity couldn’t think of a single reason why now. 

Hadn’t this been building since the mansion, when he told her she was the woman he loved?  Later, Oliver said it was a lie, a trick, but hadn’t Felicity always been able to tell when he was lying?  And, really, that moment in the mansion had felt so much more real than when he denied it later on the island. 

So, maybe it was time to stop fighting it. 

Felicity wandered over to Oliver without realizing what she was doing.    She wrapped both hands around her glass to keep from touching.  She hadn’t decided if she should touch yet.  Really, it wasn’t the time.   They were on important business.  But she could look.  Boy, could she look.

“Felicity,” Oliver murmured, his eyes still fixed in the distance. 

Then he bit his lip and she almost groaned.  She _stared_ at that lip.  “Mmm hmm.”  Felicity took another sip.  It was just so good.

Oliver was now wetting that same bottom lip with his tongue.  He did that a lot.  Was he trying to drive her insane? 

“You know I respect you, right?”

“’Of course,” Felicity responded, trying really hard to concentrate, her eyes following the path of his tongue.

“It’s just…I’m not sure what I was…in the limo…I mean…” Oliver was so cute when _he_ babbled.  He shot her a nervous look, before confessing, “You were right, I _was_ flirting.”

Felicity giggled.  She couldn’t help it.  “I could tell.”

Oliver actually blushed, shooting her a shy smile.  “I’m not sure what came over me.”

“Are you saying that you didn’t _mean_ to flirt with me?” 

Okay, so here was the super weird part.  Felicity expected that to come out hurt or confused or accusing.  Maybe all three.  But somehow it came out…sultry?  That was strange.

Weirder still was that usually when Oliver backtracked like this, Felicity had a knot of anxiety in her gut.  Like a _lead_ knot.  Her defenses would fly up and she would already be retreating, deflecting like crazy.  Not standing there sipping fruit juice and staring at him through lowered lashes.

It was a look that clearly did something to him, because Oliver’s eyes flashed with heat, and he sputtered, “No.  It’s not…it’s not that.”

“So you _meant_ to flirt with me?”  Oh God, now Felicity was flirting with _him_.  What the hell?

“Yes…no…I mean…”  Oliver’s eyes were interested though.  Felicity could tell.  Maybe she should have tried flirting with him ages ago.  “It’s just that…I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t respect you.  You’re _very_ important to me, Felicity.”

“And you don’t flirt with people who are important to you?”  Ok, Felicity’s brain-lip connection was officially severed.  And it had never been very good to begin with.

Felicity half expected Oliver to recoil at her comment, but instead he chuckled in a self-deprecating sort of way.  “Rarely.  Not anymore.”  He looked at her with a serious and genuine expression.  “Don’t ever think that you’re someone I might… _trifle_ with…be the _old_ Ollie with.  I mean, I wouldn’t play with your feelings like that.”

"Then what _are_ you doing?” Felicity asked, with nothing more than candid curiosity.  Again, she wondered where her anxiety had gone.  She felt the attraction, the flutter of excitement, but for the first time the edge, the fear, was gone.

“I don’t know,” Oliver whispered.

Felicity hadn’t realized how close they were. They were really, _very_ close.  Then Oliver leaned even _closer_ and Felicity resisted the urge to rise up onto her toes.  Oh God, he was going to _kiss_ her.

"Felicity?"

“Mmm Hmm.”  She felt herself sway toward him. 

Oliver grabbed her glass out of her hand, asking harshly, “What is _this_?”

Felicity flinched back, blinking up at him.  What?   No….no fair

“ _Felicity_!”  Oliver demanded, holding up the glass.  Now looking incredibly distraught.

She didn’t understand.  “It’s…it’s Futura’s new health drink.  The doctor told you—”

“Is _this_ what I drank in the limo?”

What the hell?  Why did Oliver sound angry?  Well, Felicity was starting to get a little POed herself.  “ _No_ …” she said sarcastically, trying to grab her drink back.  “Like I said, _this_ one is new.  It has _mango_.”

But the bastard still held it out of reach.  "Felicity, do you feel strange?”

That made her pause, the worry in Oliver’s voice finally breaking through.  He thought Felicity was being drugged.  She reeled back, taking stock.  She didn’t feel high or drunk.  She didn’t feel fuzzy or floaty the way she did after one of Digg’s ‘ _aspirin_.’

“No…” she said, but…she wasn’t entirely sure.  “What are you thinking?” Felicity whispered, sobering.

Oliver’s voice lowered as well and he learned in, “Do you feel…?  It’s not a drugged feeling.  It’s like…you feel like yourself, but without…anxiety…with lowered inhibitions.”

Felicity froze.  But as if to confirm it, she felt a suspicious _lack_ of anxiety.  Her hands flew into the air, away from where she was reaching for the glass, and she stepped back, eyes wide.

“ _Christ_ ,” Oliver swore, all but throwing the glass onto the table and grabbing Felicity’s hand to drag her toward the door.  “We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”  But the door didn’t even have a handle.  “Fuck.”  He dropped her hand to frantically push at the door, feeling around the edges to find a way out.

Felicity’s eyes searched the room, looking for another route of escape.  Her phone.  She needed to send a message to Digg and Roy.  Then, maybe, she could hack into their mainframe, release the door…

“Oliver?  Does the air smell…sweet?”  Felicity paused on her way to her bag and looked up in time to see a shimmery pink cloud emerge from the vent.

Oliver’s head snapped up and followed her gaze.  “Fuck!  Felicity cover your mouth with your shirt.”

She did as she was told, doubling her efforts to grab her phone, but…no reception, of course.  If she could just…

There was a loud clatter and Felicity flinched, her eyes jerking up in time to see the chair Oliver had apparently hurled at the window crack under the blow.  The window remained unscratched.

“Oliver…”  Felicity was lightheaded now.  Her phone fell from numb fingers. 

She felt hands close over her elbows.  Felicity forced herself to look up and she met Oliver’s eyes.  They were dilated and he was breathing fast.  Their knees gave out at the same time and they sunk to the floor.  Her head fell to his chest and her eyes drifted closed.

And still, she wasn’t scared.  Wasn’t that odd?

 

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

 

 

The first thing Oliver recognized was warmth.  And the softest fabric he had ever felt against his bare skin.

It had been a long time since Oliver had woken slowly, hazily.  Usually, he snapped into alertness with a corresponding shot of fear, a need to survey the surroundings for threats.  Instead, he felt calm.  Content.  That alone should to be terrifying, because there was no reason on God’s earth that Oliver could imagine for feeling that way.

He forced his eyes opened.  His head was still laying against a divinely soft pillow and he held himself still as a sea of white came into view.  Bright, striking white.  Everywhere.  The sheets.  The walls.  The floor.  Nothing but white.  Not a speck of color.  Oliver wondered if he was having some sort of bizarre dream. 

His head felt heavy when he lifted it and as he looked in the other direction Oliver’s breath caught.  He almost became convinced, in that moment, that this was most _definitely_ a dream. 

On the pillow next to him, Felicity slept, her hair a bright golden cloud, striking in the expanse of white, falling in long curls around her peaceful expression.  Her face was fresh and clean, scrubbed free of her usual bright and artfully applied make-up. 

Had Oliver ever even seen Felicity without make-up before?  Christ, she was beautiful.

Oliver’s eyes drifted to the soft skin of her bare shoulder, peeking out from the fluffy comforter.  His hand itched to reach out and see if it was as smooth and silky as it looked.  Felicity’s hand was fisted loosely under her chin, giving her a youthful…dear God was she _naked_?

Fuck.  _He_ was naked!

That startled Oliver enough to hurl him into wakefulness and he jerked up, alert, even without the spike of fear he would have expected given the sheer… _insanity_ of the situation.  What the hell was going on?

He surveyed the surroundings again, just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.  But he didn’t feel drugged or foggy and, in contrast with when he first woke up, he felt perfectly sharp.  Not only that, but Oliver discovered pretty quickly that he was indeed naked under the layers of silky white sheets and comforter.  And Felicity….

Well, damn, as far as he could tell, Felicity was naked as well.  She was mostly covered, though, and Oliver had to forcefully remove his hands from the blankets to keep himself from lifting them to check.

There was a voice in his head, one he usually held in check, that was trying to convince him to touch Felicity.  It made Oliver seriously question his impulse control at the moment.  He might not _feel_ drugged, but he had no doubt that he was under the influence of _something_. 

It all flooded back to him in a rush.  The limo.  The cloyingly sweet fruit juice that had been incredibly delicious, despite the fact that Oliver hated sweet drinks and had since the island.  He remembered sitting with Felicity, talking…just _talking_ about nothing, feeling relaxed and himself, more so than he had in…ever. 

The conversation had been free-flow and fun, free of the anxiety and restraint that came with the worry that Felicity would figure out how he felt, or that Oliver would let go and drag her even further into the darkness.

But then they were out in the fresh air and the anxiety had started slowly creeping its way back in.  At first, Oliver couldn’t understand what had happened, but, then, there was Felicity looking up at him with a soft, warm expression and that damn drink in her hands and it clicked. 

Then there was the conference room and the locked door and the fumes and the unbreakable window and … that was it.  Everything ended there.

_Jesus Christ!_   Oliver scrambled out of bed and frantically searched the large white room for his clothing. 

But there was nothing.  Not his clothes.  Not hers.  Not anyone else’s.  No robes.  _Nothing_.  No drawers, no cabinets, no closets. 

There was a white sectional bolted to the floor and a large white easy-chair.  There was a shelf against the wall, also white, with a glass pitcher and glasses filled with that damn juice.  It was the only splash of color in the room.  But when Oliver looked closely, because glass could be useful, they were made of plastic, not glass after all.

And nothing else.

There was one curtain and Oliver cautiously moved it to reveal a spacious white marble bathroom.  It had slightly more color in the form of chrome fixtures and mirrors, but other than the basic toiletries and towels there was also… nothing.  No razors, nothing sharp or electric.  Not even a door for privacy.

Oliver used the facility and after washing his hands, he smelled the water.  It smelled clean enough and when he tried it, it only tasted like water.  Though, strangely, he found he wasn’t that thirsty.

How long had they been there?  Were they still at the Futura Lab.  Oliver hoped so.  It increased the chances of Digg and Roy finding them.  So far, Oliver hadn’t found anything useful in mounting an escape, but at least it didn’t look like they had been harmed.  It was strange. Unlike any of his past, and _numerous_ , abduction experiences.  And _that_ was disorienting in of itself. 

Back in the main room, Oliver searched the walls for a door, a handle, hinges…but there wasn’t a thing.  The door must slide…but there was no key pad, no buttons, no way to open… _anything_ from the inside. 

Oliver was starting to be grateful for the lack of anxiety, because surely he would be in a full blown panic mode now.  He glanced at Felicity, still peacefully sleeping.  Or rage. 

He should be completely enraged that someone had done this to them.  To _her_.  Someone had taken Felicity against her will and undressed her and … but Oliver seemed to be incapable of feeling more than a twinge of anger.

Without conscious thought, Oliver found himself moving to stand over her.  His hand was hovering as he tried to resist the urge to stroke Felicity’s hair when he noticed the button on the wall next to the plush white headboard.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver only hesitated a moment before pushing it.  He had no idea what it did, but they were low on options. 

Immediately, the wall behind the bed parted and slid back, revealing floor to ceiling windows.  Oliver was drawn to the bright sunlight and the promise of color like a moth to the flame.  He pressed a hand to the glass and stared out.

They were high.  On top of a mountain, at least, and only God knew how many floors up.  There was a steep drop and a breathtaking view.

This was not the lab. 

For the first time since waking, Oliver felt a real flicker of fear.

Because there were two things Oliver was certain of.  He had never been here before.  And this was a _goddamn_ Island.


	2. The White Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity was flying.

It was wonderful.

She had had dreams of flying before, but never like this. Before, Felicity had always been alone. Now, she flew through the air with her arms around the smooth metal of the Iron Man suit. With his chest plate beneath her palms and her cheek pressed against his shoulder blades, the metal wasn’t cool like she expected, but warm and alive, like skin.

They flew along the California coast. Flew and flew. Felicity’s arms never got tired, her hold on the man below her never slipped.

The sea air was in her face. The sun was balmy on her skin. It was exhilarating. Felicity had never gone this fast before. But she didn’t feel scared. She felt safe. She felt free.

Felicity was almost disappointed when the Malibu mansion came into view. But Iron Man gently set her down on the extensive patio overlooking the ocean and turned to her. Her breath caught as the suit peeled away, revealing inch after inch of his perfect, scarred body, thick arms in a tight green t-shirt and powerful thighs in dark green cargo pants.

Oliver’s perfect lips smirked at her as her eyes ran over his body. It was framed by more of a beard than scruff, carefully trimmed into a neat sculpted lines. There was a tingle in the back of Felicity’s mind that made her question if that was right, but then he spoke and it didn’t matter.

“Why Ms. Potts, do you see something you like?” Oliver murmured as he stepped out of the sleek green suit and advanced on her.

Felicity licked her lips. Oh, she liked all right. “The suit is an impressive piece of technology. It should be, given the amount of time you spend on it.”

Oliver was close enough now that he was able to reach around her and capture Felicity’s ponytail in his hand, slowly stroking its length before wrapping it around his hand and gently pulling her closer. She shouldn’t like it as much as she did.

“It would be nothing without you,” Oliver murmured.

Her breath catching, Felicity whispered huskily, “That so?”

Oliver brought his other hand up to cup Felicity’s face, crowding her, making her step backward until the back of her knees hit the lounge…bed? It was crazy the things billionaires owned. Not that she was complaining. Lounge beds on opulent patios were good. Awesome, even.

“I would be nothing without you.”

Even better were billionaires with words that could melt butter. Felicity licked her lips, murmuring, “Mr. Stark—”

“Oliver,” he corrected, his voice a low whisper against her lips.

A gentle shove and Felicity fell onto her back. The lounge bed was so soft. It was like lying on clouds.

Though, clouds were probably cold and wet and this was warm and wonderful…comfy. Wonderfully comfortably perfect. Felicity also had an Oliver shaped blanket, so double perfect. She had always wanted an Oliver shaped blanket. It was warm and heavy and it that was kissing her.

And that kiss, it was transcendental. Everything that a kiss should be. Felicity moaned and shifted under him, trying to get closer, to get more.

“Felicity.”

Unfortunately, that was not a sexy moan. Oliver sounded like he was calling for her, not crying out in passion. Wait. No. Felicity protested the loss of his lips with a whimper. Come back. They were barely getting started.

Felicity tried to pull him closer, but Oliver wouldn’t budge. Instead, he whispered against her skin, “Felicity, sweethear—I think it’s time for you to wake up now.”

What was he talking about? She was awake. Her body was wide awake, more than awake. Couldn’t he tell? It was humming and excited and ready and able and…

“Oliver,” Felicity whined, trying to pull him back down on top of her.

But even Dream Oliver was uncooperative. Felicity should have expected it. Why should he be any different just because he was playing Tony Stark?

“Felicity,” Oliver called again.

He was nibbling on her neck, giving her quite the mixed signals here. But already the dream was fading. The knowledge that it was a dream was always a sure sign that it over, no matter how much she fought it. This sucked. Felicity hadn’t had a dream this fabulous in ages.

“Felicity, can you wake up for me?”

Ohhh and did he have to put it that way? “But…don’t wanna,” Felicity protested. Why was he doing this to her? This was just too wonderful a dream to give up without a fight. Then Oliver chuckled and it sent shivers through her body, making her moan again.

"Okay,” Oliver grunted out, “you’re killing me here. Felicity, you gotta wake up now. I can’t take much more.”

Much more what? Dream Oliver was turning out to be very contrary. Almost more confusing than every day Oliver. And that was saying something. Fine. Whatever. It wasn’t as if he were going to allow her to enjoy this anymore anyway. She always did as he asked in the end, didn’t she? Pathetic.

Felicity cracked open her eyes to a sea of bright white, like a sunny morning after a snow storm or what she imagined lying in the clouds would look like…though, that might have more blue above. And this was white, white and more white. But she certainly felt like she was lying in the clouds, everything against her skin was so soft and fluffy. Not cold and wet. So pretend clouds. All pillowy and cottony.

The only color Felicity could make out was the bronze of Oliver’s skin as he sat next to her. He was leaning toward her and…there were miles upon miles of gorgeous golden skin. All the naked skin. Only the smallest slip of white terry cloth covered Oliver’s most private parts. Otherwise, he was gloriously, beautifully naked. Wow, this was better than the green t-shirt and cargos. Much better.

And Oliver was smiling softly at her, pushing a piece of hair out of her face.

“This is a dream too,” Felicity breathed, smiling to herself. That was okay, then.

Now she understood. It was one of those dreams where you woke up from one only to find yourself in another. Felicity hummed happily and reached out to touch the warm expanse of Oliver’s shoulder, allowing her fingers to wander up to his neck and down his arm. Mmmm. This dream was even better than the last one.

Oliver sucked in a hissing breath. “Felicity, sweethe…”

He clenched his jaw. It was the second time Oliver almost called her sweetheart, but stopped himself. Even in Felicity’s dreams, he wouldn’t completely give himself over to her. What did that say about her subconscious?

She watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Oliver swallowed and said, “Felicity, I…God, I wish this was just a dream. But, unfortunately, it really isn’t.”

Unfortunately? Why would it be unfortunate? If this was real life…well, wouldn’t that just be the most awesome thing. Almost naked Oliver in her bed. Yup, that would definitely be fortunate.

But Oliver kept frowning so Felicity forced herself to look around, unsure of what was weirder, that he denied that this was a dream or that he seemed disappointed that it wasn’t. She scanned the strange white room, realizing that it wasn’t just the blank back drop of a dream, but rather a fully furnished room that looked like it was straight out of a SyFy channel show.

And the silk against her skin…dear God, she was naked too. Okay, it didn’t matter how much she drank, no way was Felicity forgetting getting naked with Oliver. Just…no. And besides, she wasn’t hung-over. That felt like headaches and grossness. This felt like heaven. Warm. Content. Safe.

“It’s definitely a dream,” Felicity argued softly, content with her conclusion. It only made logical sense. Smiling hazily at Oliver, she went back to running her hand down his chest to his perfect abs. “Mmmm.” It was proper dream protocol.

Oliver growled, low in his throat, “Felicity.” And that sound…well, it certainly didn’t discourage her. If he would just make that noise all day, every day—

Then Oliver had to go and remove her hand from his skin. Not cool. “This isn’t going to be one of those annoying anxiety dreams where everything starts out great, but then you never get to the next level, is it?” Felicity pouted, starting to feel petulant.

She hated those dreams. The ones where Oliver kissed her, then pulled away and went on and on about all the reasons they couldn’t be together. Or worse, he told her it was a mistake and he was still in love with Laurel. Or Sara. Or whoever the girl of the week was. If it was a particularly ugly nightmare, it was Isabel and then Felicity was forced to watch them together…Yuck! Blech. Those were the worst.

Oliver stood up and took a step back from the bed. Another not cool, not good sign. Though, thankfully, no Isabel. Yet.

Felicity could see she was in a bed now. And over there, no longer on the bed, was Oliver. His chest was heaving, his breathing fast. Was he going to have a heart attack? That would be new and original as far as her nightmares went. It was still better than watching him make out with Isabel, though.

But, then, there was his towel. It was rather distracting and very detailed for a dream. It was barely big enough to circle Oliver’s waist and slung low. Felicity thought it might be tented, but even in the dream, Felicity couldn’t make herself look, like it was inappropriate or something. Which was just so stupid. Maybe, on some level, her own brain felt she deserved to suffer.

Swallowing, Felicity flopped back onto the bed and closed her eyes, pinching herself. She would really like to wake up before this dream got ugly.

When Felicity opened her eyes, nearly naked Oliver was still frowning at her and she grunted with frustration. Pinching usually worked. What kind of bizarre dream was this? “Can we just skip the part where you lecture me on all the reasons we can’t be together,” she pleaded. “I’d like to wake up now.”

Oliver’s face fell and he looked like he was choking, but he took a step closer and Felicity didn’t see how that was going to help anything. She pinched herself again. Harder this time. With the sharp edge of her nails. What was the next step if pinching didn’t work?

“Felicity, sweet—”

Here they go again.

“Sweetheart,” Oliver seemed to force himself to finish and her eyes widened in response. Well, that was different. “Do you really dream that I’m telling you we can’t be together?”

“Yeah, more like nightmares,” Felicity muttered, her eyes closing again. At this point, it had better be a dream or she was going to be utterly humiliated. Though, she didn’t feel humiliated. Really, she just felt like she’d like Oliver to shut up and get back into bed.

Oliver sighed. “At least no one’s dies in your nightmares.”

“Oh, I have those too.”

Oliver grabbed her hand and Felicity finally opened her eyes again, because…it felt real. Maybe she needed to start to entertain the possibility that this wasn’t a dream. Though, nothing else made—

“Felicity, listen to me,” Oliver cleared his throat, but his voice remained thick and gravely. “I’m pretty sure…Felicity, we’ve been abducted.”

“Abducted?”

It took Felicity a minute or two to process that one. To move beyond the dream theory and try to think of the last thing she could remember…the conference room, the gas…crap!

Felicity sat up quickly, forgetting for a moment she was naked and allowing the sheet to fall. When she realized, she was left scrambling to cover herself and wondering why she didn’t feel more embarrassed than she did. She narrowed her eyes and sent Oliver an angry look, but it was mostly out of habit.

Oliver smirked and looked away, only Felicity could tell it was totally for show and he most definitely peeked, the bastard. Strangely, her most pressing thought about that was how unfair it was that he got a glimpse and she didn’t. And that she hoped he liked what he saw.

Ignoring Oliver, and her odd reactions, best she could, Felicity carefully took in the white room, their prison. She’d never heard of one that included lush white bedding, but there was no doubt that this was what it was…a jail cell. A really nice. Very clean. Jail cell.

Felicity waited for the panic, the terror, but her heart-rate barely increased. She spared a glance at Oliver. Well, not from fear anyway. She still wanted to run her tongue over his abs, which was just…so…. not…. the appropriate reaction to this situation.

“I’m not freaking out,” Felicity murmured, almost to herself. “Why aren’t I freaking out?”

Oliver laughed bitterly. “I’m pretty sure that has something to do with the drugs they gave us.”

The drugs. Of course, there were drugs. That…made everything make so much more sense. Felicity let herself fall back onto the bed, this time clutching the sheet firmly. “Crap.”

“Yup.”

“You ok…? I mean…” What did she mean?

“I feel fine. Too fine, probably. You?”

“Yeah,” Felicity told him, absently, as she took more careful stock of her body. “Nothing hurts.”

Actually, she felt calm and relaxed, less tense than she had felt in years. She wasn’t nauseous or foggy or sluggish. Just like Oliver said, Felicity felt fine. Too fine. Almost unnaturally so, yet not the false high of alcohol or drugs…well, what she imagined drugs felt like. For someone who had a rather rebellious youth, it was sad that her only experiences with intoxicants be unintentional…

Felicity snapped her eyes to Oliver. “That Futura Juice is being mass marketed. They could drug the entire country. More than the country.”

Blowing out a breath, Oliver just shook his head, his hands on his overly attractive hips. Which Felicity really needed to not be distracted by. “Maybe, but this feels personal. They clearly wanted us.”

Funny, Felicity didn’t find that overly reassuring. “But I vetted them,” she argued, with as much bite as she could manage in her voice, given her oddly even emotions. She should be insulted down to her bones. Or mortified. How had they slipped through all her algorithms? “Everything checked out. I did a full hack.”

“Apparently, not full enough,” Oliver muttered, his arms crossed over his chest, his biceps bulging.

“Hey,” Felicity attempted to snap. Because, shouldn’t Oliver doubting her make her really upset?

But instead of feeling insulted and defensive, Felicity just…wanted to run her tongue over the veins on those bulging biceps. Apparently, her ability to lust was still within normal limits. And she had a new found obsession with her tongue and Oliver’s body parts. Well, maybe not new, per se.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate that it was your fault. Clearly, they’re good.”

Sheepish, apologetic Oliver was even more eatable…okay, they needed to get out of here. Fast. Apparently, being anxiety free made Felicity a nymphomaniac. “I assume you tried the door?”

“I can’t find the door.”

Felicity groaned. Lovely. “So a window would be too much to hope for?”

The corner of Oliver’s mouth tilted upward and he held out his hand. Felicity crinkled her forehead, but she took his offering, this time being very careful of the sheet. Oliver helped her drape it over her shoulder as he pulled her to her feet and turned her to…

Oh dear God.

How had she not noticed that the entire wall behind the bed was a window? For a moment, Felicity couldn’t find words as she took in the spectacular and terrifying view. They were not in Kansas anymore. Or California, as the case may be.

“This isn’t…” Felicity glanced cautiously back at Oliver. “Lian Yu?”

Oliver huffed out a humorless laugh. “No. But I’d hazard a guess it’s an island.”

“What makes you say that?” Felicity’s eyes searched the distance where she could just make out the shore. “We can’t see behind us. All we know is that we’re near the ocean.” As far as she could tell they could be anywhere. There were a million options.

Oliver grunted. “Call it instinct. It’s always an island.”

There was something horrifically ominous about that and Felicity swallowed. Maybe it was best not to ruminate on it, because the thing about islands…even if they escaped their prison, there was an ocean between them and home. “So…it doesn’t so much look like the window opens, huh?”

“Nope.”

“And even if it did, we’re so high that…? Splat.”

“Yup.”

Felicity’s head fell back and she was almost surprised when it landed on Oliver’s chest. But she let it rest there… because, well, she didn’t seem to have the will not to. His hand came to rest on her hip and she really didn’t know what to think about that. But she knew she liked it, that was for sure.

Maybe, in that moment, they both needed the comfort. Maybe, when it came to Oliver, Felicity would always just accept whatever he was willing to give. Was that sad?

“So then, how can you be sure it’s not Lian Yu?” Though, Felicity was sure Oliver had an excellent reason. “Because, you somehow always find yourself back there. You’re like a boomerang or something.”

This time Oliver’s chuckle actually sounded real. “This is considerably more tropical for one. I know every inch of Lian Yu for two. Do I need a third?”

Felicity blew out a breath, whispering, “No.” She almost wished it was Lian Yu. Digg might actually look for them there.

“It’s going to be ok,” Oliver murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

The gesture brought tears to Felicity’s eyes. The mix of emotions the simple action stirred up were complex and unsettling, especially since… there were some missing. Fear. Anxiety. Self-doubt. The lack of certain feelings was almost more disturbing than the one’s she had. It was as if everything was off balance and she wasn’t sure which way to turn. The wrong move could send her stumbling to the floor.

Felicity stepped out of Oliver’s embrace. Because sanity was important, especially in life and death scenarios. “Please, tell me that there is a bathroom. I really gotta pee.”

Oliver gave her his small I-find-you-amusing smile. “Behind the curtain.” He pointed to the other side of the room. “It doesn’t lock. Since there’s no, well, door.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Seriously?” Felicity groaned, taking her sheet and draping it over her arm like an evening gown.

This was going to get old fast if they didn’t find something else to wear. Felicity had the sinking feeling that if there was anything else to be found, Oliver would be a) wearing it and/or b) have offered her it to her by now. In that sense, he was ever the gentleman. With her anyway.

“I’m guessing they didn’t leave us clothes?” Felicity asked just to be sure, because, really, if there was a pile siting in the corner and she never asked, she was going to feel rather foolish, drugs or no.

Oliver scrunched up his face and shook his head apologetically.

“Of course, not.” Because they just had to be kidnapped by creepy mad scientists who not only found it necessary to drug them and lock them in a tower, but also to steal their clothing. Fun times. “You need to cover your ears. I have a shy bladder.”

Okay, and why had she felt the need to offer that particular piece of information? Well, now Felicity could add it to the list of things she never wanted or needed Oliver to know. She wondered if she could still blush since her embarrassment dial was turned down so low. And would that mean she’d have more verbal diarrhea or less?

Chuckling, Oliver’s smile widened. Because Felicity was oh-so-amusing when she was a spaz. “I’ll hum. How’s that?”

“It’ll do.”

Then Felicity high-tailed it to the bathroom while she still had a smidgen of dignity intact. Was it technically a bath-room if there wasn’t an actual door? Was a door necessary to the definition of the word ‘room’?

And why was she wasting her energy thinking about something so unimportant? Was she losing her mind? The answer was almost definitely…possibly.

Felicity took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Part of her was still struggling with this being real. She really wished it wasn’t. The reality of their situation was terrifying, except she couldn’t be terrified, which which was terrifying in of it itself…and the loop was one of the most dizzying she had ever experienced.

Then, because Felicity did actually need to pee, and that was something normal, grounding even, she unwrapped her toga-slash-sheet and piled it carefully in the corner. The last thing she needed was one of only things she had to cover herself to get dirty.

After she relieved herself, Felicity took a moment to study her image in the mirror. It was hard not to, given it covered the entire wall next to, and above, the sink. Maybe it would even give her some clue as to what had happened to them. She just needed to look herself over with a scientific eye.

For some reason, Felicity expected to look awful. Like bedhead + hangover x ten, but, instead, she looked…good. Her skin had a healthy glow. So much better than someone in her situation should have. Honestly, Felicity couldn’t remember looking this…healthy without makeup ever. Her skin was clear, her cheeks pink. It was weird. Really, freakily weird.

Felicity ran a hand through her hair and it was soft and clean, which was an extra special creepy, because if she had been here a while it should be a greasy mess and if she hadn’t…well, she used quite a bit of hairspray before going to work that day to make that smooth ponytail look work. Her hair wasn’t crunchy the way it usually was when she took it down after work.

Running her hand down her body, Felicity realized that she was not only clean and moisturized, she was…bare…as in there wasn’t a speck of hair below her neck.

This was freaky as fuck and she should be panicking, but she couldn’t, which was almost worse. And she rarely swore like that, even in her head, but if this situation didn’t warrant it, Felicity didn’t know what did.

Someone had kidnapped them, washed, lotioned, and waxed her, head to toe. Then, put her naked in bed with Oliver. What the kind of sick game was this?

Unless, Digg had gotten tired of all the sexual tension...no, now was not time for jokes, even internal ones.

Felicity’s earrings were gone. All of them. Even the ones she never removed. The belly button ring she had gotten in college too. How long had they been here and…?

Holy fricken, fracken, fuck!

It really shouldn’t have taken Felicity so long to notice. Really, she should have realized as soon as she woke up, but it was just so…so…impossible. She met her own eyes in the mirror and her anxiety finally started to spike.

“Oliver!”

He burst through the curtain in seconds. Faster than Felicity expected, but maybe she hadn’t expected anything, or thought this through at all, because she was actually standing there completely naked and she really should have grabbed the sheet, then called for Oliver and…holy God.

And the damn man just stood there, frozen, wide-eyed and staring at her very naked body.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Felicity grabbed for the sheet from the corner and Oliver finally moved, turning around and saying, “Sorry. I’m sorry. You called and I—”

Oh, the hell with it. They didn’t have any time for UST right now. “Oliver, did you notice anything…? I need you turn around and tell me what you notice that’s different about me?”

Oliver hesitated, but did as he was told, concern on his face now. His eyes dragged over her, starting with Felicity’s face and moving down, a little too slowly, a little too thoroughly, and with rather a lot of heat, and it was very distracting…

“Up on my face, Oliver! This is weird and freaky and really serious!” Felicity demanded, because it was, and he was sidetracking her, God dammit! “My face—”

“Is beautiful. What—?”

Then Oliver seemed to realize what he said and his eyes widened and he started to stammer. What the hell? Now was not the time for him to do his awkward adolescent routine.

It was rather sweet, though. Did Oliver really think her face was beautiful? Great, now she was doing the adolescent routine.

“No,” Felicity insisted, trying to snap herself out of it as much as him. “What’s missing on my face?”

Finally, recognition flared and Oliver breathed, “Your glasses.” He looked almost relieved, which meant he really did not get it. “I’m sorry. How well can you see? Do you need—?”

“That’s just it! I can see perfectly! I haven’t seen this well without glasses or contacts in…ever. I’ve never been able to see this well, Oliver. Not when I was a little kid. Not ever.”

Oliver stiffened, straightening his shoulders. Felicity could see him transform into the Oliver she knew, the one who stood next to her in the foundry and helped her solve the trickiest of crimes. Thank God. Because she had never experienced anything so freaky in her life as the ability to see.

He stepped forward, cupping Felicity’s face and looking into her eyes. Oliver’s blue eyes met hers and she swore she felt her heart skip a beat. She just wished she could keep her mind on the matter at hand for one single moment without getting distracted by her ridiculous attraction for this man.

Someone had messed with Felicity’s her eye sight, for God’s sake, but, wow, meeting Oliver’s eyes for the first time without anything between them? It felt as intimate as skin on skin contact. And even more potent.

Oliver gently moved her head to the side checking for…what? Scars? Needle marks? Bruises? Felicity repressed a shudder.

“Anything?” she managed in a whisper.

Oliver shook his head. “Nothing. Your skin is flawless,” he whispered, his fingers brushing lightly across her temple and making Felicity shiver. Did he have to keep saying such sweet things? Why was he saying such sweet things? “How does it feel? Your eyes, I mean? Do they hurt? Feel weird?”

“No, just...” Felicity shook her head. “It’s just beyond bizarre. Why would someone kidnap us and…perform Lasik surgery in my sleep? I don’t have any other explanation. I don’t have any explanation that makes sense.”

It was just so…invasive. And confusing. Illogical even.

Oliver’s eyes drifted away, focusing on nothing. Felicity could almost see the wheels turning in his head and she really hoped those wheels brought them somewhere because she was coming up empty. She was even mixing metaphors.

But, then, Felicity realized something else was off. Her eyes were fixed on his shoulder. It was rather close and her new and improved eyes were busy appreciating the tone of his skin, when…

“Oliver?” Felicity murmured. “This scar here, wasn’t it more…puckered and scar-like?”

Eyes narrowing, Oliver stepped back from her and turned more fully to the mirror. Felicity joined in the study of his body, which normally was her favorite hobby, her secret guilty pleasure. Well, maybe not that secret.

But, regardless, between her not so stealthy appreciation and Oliver’s penchant for going shirtless, she knew some of his scars and tattoos really well. Like pathetically well. One might even say Felicity was expert on the topic.

“Is it just my eyes or are all your scars faded?” Felicity asked with a gulp. Maybe it wasn't just her eyes they healed.

Oliver nodded slowly, eyes staring at himself intensely. One might have thought him vain, but he was frowning.

“And the Bratva tattoo and the dragon,” Felicity said, trying and failing to keep her fingers from trailing over the tattoo on his back, “They’re lighter.” Why was she touching it? How was that helping anything? Did he think it was weird?

Oliver spun, looking over his shoulder at the tattoo on his back. “This is really weird, Felicity.”

He meant the incredible disappearing tattoo and not Felicity touching him, right? Though, honestly, she found her impulse control even worse than usual.

“All except that one.” Felicity pointed to the Chinese characters up Oliver’s side, at least part of her brain staying on task. Why did those still look dark and new? She bent down to take a closer look. For science. And evidence gathering. And stuff.

Oliver’s eyes followed hers and he said quietly, “That one isn’t ink.”

Felicity’s eyes snapped up to his. What? “Then what is it?”

“It’s a long story.”

Grunting, Felicity rolled her eyes. “Aren’t they all?” Was this really the time for his stupid secrets?

But Oliver distracted Felicity from pressing by turning her and pulling her back to stand. His manhandling her was a super secret weakness of hers. He brought his penetrating gaze to her shoulder, his thumb running around her bullet wound scar as he whispered, “It’s almost gone.”

Damn it. Felicity’s eyes jumped to the now smooth skin. She was proud of that stupid scar. It was the only battle scar she had and…not fair. But she also had…she grabbed the “hem” of her sheet dress and pulled up the side. If that was faded too she was gonna be so POed.

“What are you doing?” Oliver asked, his voice oddly rough, but Felicity was too upset to care. She had braved needles for that thing, goddamn it!

“Checking my tattoo,” Felicity told him distractedly.

“You have a tattoo?”

“Don’t sound so shocked! With the number of piercings I have, you’d think I’d have more, and I probably would, except, I really hate needles. I needed copious benzos or alcohol to get even these and…” Felicity was babbling even without the anxiety and it was weird and she just realized that she was about to show Oliver her tattoo and maybe that wasn’t the best idea in the world. “I wanted a lip and a nose ring, but those were hard to get without seeing the needle and I threw up at the sight…”

But Oliver wasn’t distracted at all, which was probably good because Felicity really didn’t need him to be paying attention to the last part. Instead, he was a man on a mission. Which was really no better. He clearly wanted to see the damn tattoo. Frack.

His hand was on the edge of her sheet and he pulled up the last bit…and, of course, it was faded. This sucked. And Oliver was staring at it. That double sucked. Humiliation and disappointment. Mentally, anyway, since the physical sensations were absent.

“Jesus Christ, Felicity,” Oliver breathed, sounding a little bit like he’d been punched in the gut. “You have an arrow tattoo?”

Yeah, Felicity probably shouldn’t have been so quick to pull up her sheet. Great, now Oliver was on his knees to get a crosser look. “Don’t get too excited,” she defended. Last thing Felicity’s ego needed was Oliver thinking she was some sort of Arrow fangirl. “Sara and I were out drinking one night. We both got tattoos. It was Team Arrow bonding thing.”

That was it. And Oliver could believe that was it or he could decide it meant Felicity was in love with him. Which was not what it meant. Mostly. God, why had she let Sara talk her into this?

Oliver’s eyes, which had been glued to the tattoo on her hip, shot up. “Sara got an arrow tattoo? How did I not…?” he trailed off, pinching his lips together.

Yeah, that’s right. Awkward. Why did Sara want her to get an arrow tattoo anyway? Oliver had been her boyfriend at time. That had never made sense to Felicity.

“She got a canary.” At first, Felicity had thought they were getting matching tattoos for ‘Team Arrow,’ then Sara had changed her mind. At least, that’s how Felicity remembered it. She had been pretty drunk at the time.

“Oh. Right.”

Oliver was looking at the arrow image, his face uncomfortably close. But now that she had Sara on her mind Felicity wasn’t so easily flustered. She rolled her eyes, looking away from him. “I’m sure you’ve seen it…the canary.” Maybe the reminder of his ex would make them both behave…more appropriately.

“Umm hmm,” Oliver agreed distractedly, before murmuring, so quietly Felicity barely heard it, “I like yours better.”

Felicity’s heart skipped a beat. That was not more appropriate. Then Oliver reached out a finger to trace the tattoo and she almost jumped at the sensation, almost like an electric shock. Yet pleasant. Too pleasant. And definitely, completely not appropriate.

“You’re flirting again,” Felicity accused quietly.

Oliver swallowed visibly, doing that stupid beautiful throat thing again, before looking up at Felicity with hooded eyes, his fingers still on her thigh. “Can I blame it on being drugged?”

“I—”

Then there was a mechanical sound from the other room. Soft, but it rang out in the complete silence. Oliver jumped to his feet and ran, leaving Felicity to stare after him. Shaken. Wishing she were as concerned as he was with what was going on in the other room.

And half as interested in the noise as she was with the white terry-cloth towel that Oliver left in a pile at her feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks to my new Beta,fairytalehearts. I wound up adding like 1000 words to this chapter based on her suggestions and I can’t tell you how much happier I am with the chapter. I forgot how great it was to have a beta. She's wonderful! 
> 
>  
> 
> Please, let me know what you liked and didn’t like. Comments make my day! Constructive criticism is very welcome. I’m really striving to make this the best story I can. I will, _eventually_ , answer all comments, but I’m going to try to make AO3 a spoiler free zone, so if you have spoilery questions (and that may come up more in future chapters) send me a message on my new Tumblr account.
> 
> Thanks again
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/


	3. Amy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  

After hours of being in the white room, Oliver thought, perhaps, the drugs were finally starting to wear off a little.  Otherwise, would he really have spent the entire time Felicity was in the bathroom pacing and obsessing, _worrying_ about whatever was going on in that brilliant mind of hers?

Yes, Oliver was bordering on _actual_ worry over how Felicity was handling this…this… _freak show_.  It was easier when she was next to him, where he could judge her reactions, comfort her if she needed it.  The other side of that curtain felt miles away.

“ _Oliver_!”

And if the drugs were really at full strength, would Oliver have shot into the bathroom like a bat out of hell when Felicity called? 

Yeah.  He probably would have.

Oliver had been trying to figure out for hours exactly what these drugs did.  They didn’t dampen all emotions.  Not by a long shot.  They didn’t induce euphoria.  And, Jesus Christ, when he burst into the bathroom and found Felicity in all her naked glory, it was very clear that there were some feelings that were not blunted _at all_.  Not even a little bit.

 

It was kind of pathetic how he froze, like a pre-adolescent seeing a girl for the first time.  It was lucky that Felicity seemed as flustered as Oliver felt, distracted as she scrambled for her sheet, which he probably should have helped her with if he was any kind of a gentleman. 

Unfortunately, it was hard to be a gentleman when he was seconds away from being in the same predicament.   Oliver was busy struggling to keep his own makeshift garment in place since his towel was barely big enough as it was and it was quickly becoming less and less effective at keeping the one body part he really wanted to keep hidden, well, hidden.

See, as far as his cock was concerned…drugs, what drugs?  No, that wasn’t right.  It was more that Oliver Junior was rather happy that the anxiety and anger that usually ruined his fun was out of the way so he could enjoy Felicity’s presence unfettered.   What was more, his cock, the smug bastard, was currently winning his battle with the towel. 

It was humiliating and Oliver was going ruin their friendship with his _extremely_ inappropriate penis.  They were being held captive for God’s sake.  Felicity already believed he thought with his dick more than his head half the time.   Little did she know how good he was at controlling himself. 

Well, that control was on thin ice now.  The last thing Felicity needed to know was that Oliver hadn't exactly been _soft_ since she woke up all lax and calm and beautiful, making obscene noises in her dreams as she reached for him.  He was almost certain Felicity had been having a dirty dream and _that_ particular thought would not stop tormenting his pitiful little brain.

Forcing himself to turn away, far too late really, Oliver babbled, “Sorry.  I’m sorry…”  He swore he never babbled before he met her.  It was a disease he caught from her.  He was certain of it.  “You called and I—”

“Oliver, did you notice anything…?”  Felicity asked, clearly irritated with him and with good reason.  He tried his damnedest to give her his attention.  He was _so_ screwed.  “I need you to turn around and tell me what you notice that’s different about me?”

Oliver laughed rather hysterically.  Notice?  All he _did_ was notice.  Her beautiful smooth, creamy skin and the curves and the dusky pink…  

But he did as he was asked because the tone in Felicity’s voice was enough for Oliver to realize something more important was going on than his dick.  Yet, when he looked at her again, all he noticed was how goddamn beautiful she looked draped in white. 

Why couldn't he focus?  This was insane.  Felicity was one of his two best friends on the planet.  Why couldn't he think of her as a sister the way he thought of Digg like a brother.   It was a sickness with him.  It really was.

“Up on my face, _Oliver_! This is weird and freaky and _really_ serious!”  Felicity demanded and she seemed truly upset, but Oliver couldn’t find a damn thing wrong.   She looked like herself.  “My face—”

“Is beautiful.  What—?”

“No!  What’s missing _on_ my _face_?”

Oliver was starting to worry that the drugs were making her see things…see things…well _shit_! 

“Your _glasses_ ,” Oliver breathed.  Now he felt like a complete ass.  It must be horrible to be stranded here with no control over anything _and_ not be able to see.   “I’m sorry.  How well can you see?  Do you need--?”

“That’s just it!  I can see _perfectly_!  I haven’t seen this well without glasses or contacts in… _ever_.  I’ve _never_ been able to see this well, Oliver.  Not when I was a little kid.  Not ever.”

That got Oliver’s attention.   Because that was… _peculiar_.  And also, while he was having his adolescent crisis, Felicity was actually discussing something serious.  Though, honestly, she could have just told him instead of playing this stupid guessing game.  It was a waste of time.

But more importantly, why would someone kidnap them and then fix her eyesight?  Eyesight that couldn’t be easy to fixed or Oliver presumed Felicity would have done it already?  What possible motive could someone… _anyone_ have?

It was bizarre and it was invasive and it raised the question of what the hell else they had done to them while they were sleeping.  Hell, Oliver didn’t even know how long they had been here.  The idea of what other things they could have done to Felicity, it chilled his bones.

Oliver took her face in his hands, examining her.  He had no idea what he was looking for, only that he needed to check.  Surely, they had left some clue.  Incisions maybe?  The idea made him nauseous.

“Anything?” Felicity murmured, biting her lip.  A lip that was too close and too soft and too tempting.

But Oliver was concerned enough now with her well-being that he was actually able to keep his head.  “Nothing.  Your skin is flawless.”  

Well, _almost_ keep his head.  Oliver swore that they gave him something to fuck with his impulse control.  As evidenced by the way he couldn’t stop his fingers from tracing Felicity’s temples, looking for non-existent marks, babbling on about how beautiful she was, which was true, but really not something a guy said to his best friend.  Not if he wanted to keep up the pretense that what he felt for her was platonic.  

Oliver forced himself to focus on what was important.  “How does it feel?  Your eyes, I mean? Do they hurt? Feel weird?”

“No, just...” Felicity shook her head.  “It’s just beyond bizarre.  Why would someone kidnap us and…perform Lasik surgery in my sleep?  I don’t have any other explanation.  I don’t have _any_ explanation that makes sense.”

His thoughts exactly.  In Oliver’s extensive experience with abduction, they wanted to hurt, not heal.  Though the one thing the kidnappings always had in common was that they wanted something.  And, maybe, this time, they wanted something enough to _give_ something in return.

Oliver blew out a breath, trying to decide whether he was ready to share this particular insight when Felicity asked, “Oliver? This scar here, wasn’t it more…puckered and scar-like?”

Felicity was pointing to his shoulder and, Christ, her eyes weren’t the only thing these bastards messed with.  Oliver turned critical eyes to the mirror.  Luckily, his erection had faded enough to actually be concealed by the damn wash cloth masquerading as a towel again and he could focus on his scars.  He knew them well, remembered the pain that came with each, the lesson that every one of them had taught him.

But Felicity was right, they were all there, just…less.  They hadn’t healed this much in seven years.  How long _had_ they been sleeping?

“Is it just my eyes or are _all_ your scars faded?”

Oliver nodded. It was so strange.  Once he had wished the scars would disappear.  Not out of vanity…well, maybe at the beginning, but because of the memories they carried with them.  Later, he embraced them for the same reason.   They helped keep him focused, reminded him of why he fought.  The things he needed to atone for.  To have them fade like this…

The delicate touch of Felicity’s fingers on his shoulder brought Oliver’s attention back to her.  “And the Bratva tattoo and the dragon.  They’re lighter.”

Turning, Oliver looked over his shoulder at the tattoo Slade gave him.   Shado’s tattoo.  He could barely make out the details of the design anymore.  He had no idea how to feel about _that_. It was the one brand he’d always felt he’d deserved.  “This is really weird, Felicity.”

“All except that one,” Felicity pointed out, indicating the Chinese characters given to Oliver in one of the strangest moment in his life. 

Good luck trying to get _that_ off.  Maybe Oliver should tell her the story, but it was _so_ off topic. There was no way John Constantine and his _magic_ had anything to do with what was happening to them now. 

“That one isn’t ink,” he told her, because that’s the only explanation he had.  Oliver was still pretty confused as to how he got—

Oh.  Dear.  God.  Felicity was kneeling to get a closer look.   Christ, now his recently distracted cock was taking notice again and Oliver knew what the damn thing wanted.   And, no, no, _no_ he could not have it.  They had respect for Felicity’s lips, damn it!  They were not for his idiot cock’s pleasure.  And her now perfect baby blues were way too close.  No way she was missing the tent this time.  _Shit_.

Oliver managed to answer Felicity’s questions about his not-tattoo, but only barely, before he practically yanked her to her feet and away from his crotch, somehow managing to find enough brain cells to pretend he wanted to examine her scar.

Which he did.  Because if he could be royally pissed now, he would be livid about what the bastards that took them had done to Felicity.  And god _damn_ Oliver missed that rage.  Everything would be easier if he could find it again.   

Oliver easily found the scar on Felicity’s shoulder, the one she had been so damn proud of.  Oh hell.  It was even more faded than his were and when he ran his thumb over it there was barely a bump.  As much as he hated that she had been hurt, he mourned the loss of it for her, whispering, “It’s almost gone.”

Felicity’s skin was so soft.  Damn, Oliver needed to keep his hands to himself.  And yet his fingers refused to leave her shoulder.  Yes, anger would be oh-so-helpful right now to help get himself under control.

Then, dear _God_ , Felicity started pulling up the side of her skirt…sheet…thing.  What was she _doing_?  She didn’t have any other scars, she’d said so!  Was she _trying_ to kill him?  Seduce him?  If she was, it was certainly working. 

But Felicity wasn’t exactly the seductress type.  Were the drugs controlling her?  Was it possible for thoughts to panic while the rest of his body remained calm?  Must be, because that seemed to be _exactly_ what was happening. 

“What are you _doing_?” Oliver choked out, his eyes glued to her emerging skin and trying not to swallow his tongue.  He was a man of experience.  So, _so_ much experience.  He really should be able to remain calm, drugs or no.  What the hell was wrong with him?  Just because he was in love with her, didn’t mean…

“Checking my tattoo,” Felicity told him distractedly.

And, yes, he absolutely _was_ going to choke on his own tongue.  He went from half-mast to full salute so fast his head swam.  Oliver was genuinely shocked when it didn’t knock the damn towel off. 

“You have a _tattoo_?”

A tattoo.  Felicity had a tattoo.  Holy crap.  She had _voluntarily_ gotten a tattoo placed on her body.  And Oliver was going to see it.  He might just black out.  What was wrong with him?  He’d seen plenty of tattoos on women before.  Of course, none of them were Felicity, but still.

“Don’t sound so shocked!” she sounded insulted and he couldn’t imagine why.  Couldn’t Felicity see he was practically drooling here?   And if she hadn’t noticed Oliver’s erection maybe her eyes weren’t as healed as she thought they were. 

He couldn’t even correct her, despite the fact that Felicity had started to babble self-consciously.  What was Oliver supposed to say?  That it wasn’t shock, it was arousal?  Arousal so strong he was having trouble seeing straight.

Felicity was rambling on, but all Oliver could make out was the rise and fall of her voice, the words themselves were incomprehensible.  He bit his lip until he tasted blood, watching her thigh appear, inch by inch.  Then…

“Jesus _Christ_ , Felicity!”

Oliver fell to his knees, involuntarily, but, hot _damn_ , that was okay because it put him right on level with it.  And, at the moment, getting a closer look was all he cared about.

“You have an _arrow_ tattoo?”

It was the sexiest fucking thing that Oliver had ever seen in his entire wretched life. 

The tattoo was only about four inches long, angled straight down from the bottom of her trim hip to the top of her oh-so-toned thigh.  Her body was as fantastic as he had imagined.  Her skin firm and creamy, smooth and silky like the stuff of dreams.  The ink was dark green, _his_ dark green, and the shaft was a gnarled wood, but the design of the arrowhead was a perfect replica of _his_.   

Only Felicity would know his arrowheads so well.  Oliver wondered if she’d brought one in for the tattoo artist as an example or drawn it from memory.

Considering it couldn’t have been more than a few months old, it did seem faded.   Oliver wished he had seen the color when it was still fresh.  The idea of their kidnappers taking this from her…from _him_ … would have infuriated him, if he could feel fury. 

Oliver dug his short nails into his palms to keep from grabbing her and regretted that they were so short, because it didn’t cause nearly enough pain to distract him.  He…he… he wanted to _bite_ it.

He wanted to lick it.  Lave it.  Worship it.  Oliver wanted to brand it his.  But Felicity had already branded _herself_ his…

What the hell!  Where did that thought even come from?  Oliver didn’t consider himself a possessive person or…he needed to get control of himself.

He started to realize that Felicity was rambling on about how she got it.  A drunken night.  Oliver could only spare about ten percent of his brain to listen.  Hell, there was only about ten percent of his brain _working_ at the moment.

But…

“Sara got an arrow tattoo, too?  How did I not...?”

Sara did _not_ have a tattoo like this.  Oliver knew she didn’t.  No way he would have missed that.  He didn’t even think he would have been cool with that.

“She got a canary.”

“Oh.  Right.”  Of course, Oliver knew _that_.  Actually, he remembered when she got it.  Christ, that must have been the day Felicity got hers.  Sara’s was cute.  Meaningful.  It embraced her identity.  Whatever.  It wasn’t the fucking _sexiest_ thing Oliver had ever seen.  It hadn’t made him want to shove her against the mirror and….

“I’m sure you’ve seen it.”

“Umm hmm.”

Did Felicity sound jealous?  Usually, Oliver hated the mere idea of that.  It usually made him feel like shit.   Horrifically guilty and helpless, like he was kicking puppies but didn’t know how to stop... 

But, in _this_ moment, Oliver _wanted_ Felicity to be jealous.  He had this intense primal satisfaction at the idea and … _what_ the _hell_ was wrong with him?

The whole thing was weird and Oliver had a feeling that if he were in his right mind, he’d be uncomfortable with Felicity getting his mark, while drunk, with his, then, current girlfriend. 

Sara must have known.  Hell, Sara must have encouraged it.  Had she been pushing them together, even then?  Looking back, Oliver was certain now that Sara had always planned on their relationship being short term.  And she adored Felicity.  He could actually see Sara playing match-maker.

Felicity seemed to be trying to cover the tattoo up and Oliver forced himself not to fight her, to look up into her eyes instead.  She looked self-conscious.  Felicity should _never_ look self-conscious.  She was so fucking gorgeous. 

“I like yours better.”  Oliver ran a finger over the artwork, not allowing it to be covered.  But his tongue stayed in his mouth, didn’t find her skin, so that was a win.

“You’re flirting again,” Felicity accused softly.

Flirting?  Oliver was seconds away from _ravishing_ her.  How could she not know?

“Can I blame it on being drugged?”

“I—”

It was amazing what it took to break the spell.  Just the tiniest whir.  The sound of a metal door sliding.  A soft noise that was blaring in the silence.  Instinct kicked in.  Oliver was out the door and through the curtain before he had decided to move.  This might be their only chance to get out of there, only chance for escape, and he wasn’t letting it pass. 

The wall opposite the bed was sliding open and Oliver leapt into the opening, determined to keep it open, poised and ready to fight anyone who might be there trying to keep them inside.

Which left Oliver just barely able to stop himself from swinging at…a ten-year-old girl?

Shit.

They were in a chamber.  A space between two doors or, perhaps, an elevator.  Though, there were no buttons.  There was, also, no way out.

There was just Oliver and this… _child_ carrying a huge, domed metal tray and he didn’t know if he should grab her or offer to hold the tray for her.

Then the girl smiled, a big, bright, unassuming smile that reached all the way to her eyes and she said, “Hello, Mr. Oliver.  It is _so_ nice to finally meet you.”

It was surreal.  This couldn’t actually be happening.  A hallucination, maybe?

“Ahhh…Oliver…”

Felicity rushed up behind him, her sheet securely wrapped around her and thrown over her arm.  Oliver’s towel was in her other hand.  Her face was red as she skidded to a halt behind him, wrapping the towel around his waist as he stood, frozen, his hands in the door holding it open like an elevator. 

Crap.  He was naked.  And there was a child and Felicity and just… _crap_.

“You, uh, forgot something,” Felicity mumbled, her hands fumbling as she attempted to re-secure his make-shift loin cloth.

It seemed that Oliver had finally lost the battle against that stupid towel.  He hoped the child was as embarrassed as he was, maybe then she would bring them some clothes. 

Ok, no.  That wasn’t cool.  She was a kid, for God’s sake.  Who sent a kid in here with two adults who had _no_ _clothes_?  It had to be grounds for child services or something.  But the girl didn’t look embarrassed.  Or abused.  Or neglected.  In fact, she looked absolutely ecstatic when she spotted Felicity. 

“Hello, Miss Felicity,” the girl sang, beaming, as if she had known and loved Felicity all her young life.

“Uh… hi?” Felicity stammered, because even abducted, she was polite and kind.

Which just made Oliver feel guilty.  For what, he had no idea.  For glowering at the child?  For not taking her tray?  For standing there, involuntarily naked, in front of an innocent girl?  Who knew, but  Oliver was sure of one thing, the child couldn’t possibly be here of her own free will.  She must be a victim too. 

Adjusting the towel more securely, as if that was even possible, Oliver grunted, “This wouldn’t happen if we had clothes.”

“Oh, clothes aren’t necessary, Mr. Oliver.”

He gave the girl a hard stare for that.  Because that was awfully easy for her to say, covered head to toe as she was.  And thank _God_ she was. 

“It interferes with the bonding process,” the girl continued brightly, making Felicity choke and turn away with a cough.

Oliver couldn’t think of a thing to say to that, his brain had just short circuited, so he spun and entered the chamber, running his hand over the far wall, trying to find a seam, anything he could use to force his way out.

“It’s not going to open,” the chirpy voice called, behind her.  Yeah, like he hadn’t figured _that_ one out.  By the time Oliver turned, the child was already out the door, humming as she walked.  Fantastic.

Felicity stared to follow the girl, but Oliver stopped her with a hand on her arm and a look.  But she just rolled her eyes at him, whispering, “Staying in here isn’t going to get us anything but trapped.  At least we have a _chance_ at getting some information from the girl.”

Oliver sighed.  He couldn’t argue with Felicity’s logic, so he followed her back into the White Room, watching the girl carefully. 

She was clothed all in white, so much so that she could have disappeared like a chameleon into the room if it weren’t for her long dark hair.  But even that was tied back with both a wide white headband and a white bow at the base of her head.  She had on white boots, a long sleeve shirt and a long white skirt.  It was as if this place was allergic to color.

The girl stepped on something on the floor, making a door appear and slide open in the carpet.   Oliver cursed himself for not noticing any signs of it before, but the only thing that emerged was a circular table, maybe a foot and half high, surrounded by, yup, _white_ pillows. 

When they were finally out of this cursed place Oliver was throwing out everything white he owned.  He’d have Felicity redecorate the mansion in bright, vibrant, summer colors.

Oliver flinched as the door behind him closed and it was only Felicity’s hand on his arm that kept him from lunging at it again. Then he realized that the girl hadn’t done anything to trigger the door.

Someone must be watching them.

But then Oliver realized he was glaring at the child as if she were his enemy, which was completely unfair.  She was too young to conceivably chose this, or at least too young to know what she was choosing.  She must have been threatened or forced or brain-washed or maybe even drugged. The same as them.  A distant echo of anger licked at the corner of Oliver’s consciousness.

Yet, the girl turned to them with a flourish and bounce in her step, her eyes lit up with child-like glee.

Brainwashed then. 

She straightened her small shoulders and smiled excitedly, looking for all the world like she was about to begin her school play.

And likely drugged as well.

“Welcome, Miss Felicity and Mr. Oliver.”  She actually gestured her arms in a circle when she said it.

Oliver looked wide-eyed at Felicity, because what sort of twilight zone were they in?  Felicity’s hand fluttered up and landed over her mouth, but she didn’t take her eyes off the child.

“I’m your guide, Amy.”  The girl placed her hands on her chest.  Clearly, this had been rehearsed.  “And this,” she gestured expansively to the window, “is Nirvana, the birth place of a new tomorrow.”

Oliver frowned.  Nirvana?  As in the Buddhist heaven?

“ _Nirvana_?” Felicity repeated, choking on the word.  Clearly she did not appreciate the irony of the name.  Or maybe she knew something about the definition that escaped Oliver.

The choking noise quickly turned into a giggle, which led to a laugh that rapidly became hysterical.  Oliver had to wrap his arm around her to keep Felicity’s knees from giving out as she buried her face in his chest, half sobbing/half laughing.

Oliver glared at the girl… _Amy_ … and clenched his teeth as Felicity fell apart in his arms.  This was really not cool. 

She was just a child.  Oliver had to remind himself that it was _not_ this girl’s fault.  She was just a child.  She was _just_ a child.  A victim, just like them.

“Amy,” he forced himself to say, though his jaw wouldn’t unclench.  His palm rested against Felicity’s shaking back.  “What are we doing… _here_?”  Oliver couldn’t make himself say Nirvana, for fear it would start Felicity off again. 

The question seemed to make the child swell with pride.  “I'm sooo happy you asked.”  Boy, they had done a number on this kid.  “It really is _such_ an honor.”  She seemed to be struggling to control her excitement.  “You,” Amy took a deep breath, “are the most perfect match we’ve ever had.  You are going _save_ the human race.”

Oliver almost started laughing, if not from the content, then from the serious and dramatic way the girl… _Amy_ presented it.  And she was looking at them as if she expected them to be just as excited.  About being held captive.  Naked. 

Swallowing both his laughter and his hysteria, Oliver held Felicity tighter, asking, “And how exactly are we going to do that?”  He really had to wonder how he would be reacting to this if he hadn’t been drugged.

Now, Amy’s smile was mischievous.  “Oh, I can’t tell you _that_.”  She rocked up onto her toes.  “Well, not yet anyway.  But trust me, it’s a miracle we found you.  It’s going to be _amazing_.”

Oliver blew out a breath.  He had no idea what to say.  He thought, maybe, he’d like to hit something.  If it weren’t for the drugs, furniture would likely be flying.

Felicity turned in his arms, wiping her face as she clearly tried to regain her composure.  Oliver squeezed her shoulder and held her against him, telling himself it was all for her benefit. 

“Amy, how long have we been here?” Felicity asked, finally calm, though she stayed tucked against Oliver with his arm around her back.

“Oh several weeks, I suppose,” was the sing-song answer.

_“Weeks?”_

“You suppose?”

Amy nodded, completely unaffected by their distress.  “It’s necessary for you to sleep through the first stages of the treatment.  We’ve found it can be painful.  No one wants you to be in pain.”

“Of course not,” Felicity muttered under her breath and Oliver gave her another squeeze.

“Treatment?” Oliver prompted, hoping for a casual tone, something that would keep the girl talking.

“Um hmm.”  Amy had turned her attention to the tray. 

“Can you tell us anything more?  About the treatment?” Felicity persisted, biting her lip.

“You’ve done exceptionally well so far.  As I said, everyone is quite thrilled.”

Oliver didn’t think those were the details Felicity was looking for.  He could tell be by the frustrated huff she gave before continuing, “But—”

Amy lifted the lid off the tray.  “You must be hungry.  You haven’t eaten any _actual_ food since you arrived.”

The word ‘actual’ made Oliver's stomach churn, but Felicity’s gurgled and he moved his hand to cover her belly.  She wasn’t used to going days without food like he was, but she ignored her stomach, persisting, “Amy, why—?”

"Everything here is made of the finest ingredients,” Amy told them proudly, continuing as if Felicity hadn’t spoken at all.  “They are grown right here on the island.”

Oliver’s eyes flickered to Felicity.  He _told_ her it was an island.  It was always a _goddamn_ island.  Though, that probably wasn’t the most important thing right now.

“I’m also going to assume it’s been drugged,” Oliver stated evenly, looking at Amy and not the food.

Felicity stiffened in his arms, but Amy’s smile dimmed only slightly.  “Of course, all our food is treated with the appropriate supplements and enhancements, especially formulated for each couple and their stage of treatment.”

Oliver’s stomach did a strange flippy thing at the word ‘couple,’ but only for a moment, because these words:  Bonding.  Treatment.  Couple.  They also made the hair on the back of Oliver’s neck stand up. 

Clearing her throat, Felicity asked, “What do these supplements do?”

Amy’s eyes lit up.  “They make you healthier.  Better.”

“I think we’re good as is,” Oliver replied, trying not to growl at the girl.

“Please, don’t let this keep you from partaking,” Amy pleaded, appearing to be nothing but genuine.  “They will make sure you get your… _medicine_ one way or another.  Refusing only hurts yourselves and we want you to be as comfortable as possible.”  And with those last, almost ominous, words, her demeanor switched back to disgustingly perky.  “Enjoy.”

Amy skipped to the door before turning and giving them a little wave.  Then before Felicity could ask any more questions, the door opened and Amy disappeared into the chamber.  Again, she never touched or triggered anything to make the door open.

Oliver watched, every muscle in his body tense with the need to sprint through that door.  But, even if he could fight his way through, he had Felicity to think about and how far could he get anyway?  They needed a real plan, not rash action.

The door slid shut behind the girl and all the breath left Oliver’s body.  Neither of them spoke for a long minute.

“So that happened.”

Oliver didn't reply to Felicity’s soft words.  What was there to say?  Instead, he surveyed the corners of the room, the ceiling and the vents, trying to figure out where the cameras were. 

" _Did_ that happen?" Felicity finally responded to herself.  She always did that, when Oliver took too long to reply.  "I suppose it _could_ have been a bizarre perky little hallucination.  It would make—”

“It happened,” Oliver told her distractedly, before she... that could be a camera there, up in the molding.  He crossed his arms and squinted at it, stepping closer for a better view.

“Are you sure?  I mean, as sure as you _can_ be?  How can anyone _really_ be sure?”  Felicity was pacing now.  “And where exactly are we?  What are we _doing_ here?  Do they want—?”

“Shhhhh…”  Oliver pulled her into his arms, trying to stop the spiral.  The drugs must be waring off.  Maybe that’s why they had been brought new ones. 

Felicity was tense in his embrace.  "Oliver, this is nice and all but—" 

“Shhh, listen,” Oliver murmured into her ear.  He ran his hands down her back and felt her heart beating quickly against his chest.  “They’re listening to us.”

Felicity stiffened even more, taking a moment before whispering, “How do you know?”

“How did they know to open and close the door for Amy?  She didn’t activate the door in any way.  They must be monitoring us.”

“But—”

“Shhhh,” Oliver hushed again, this time pressing a kiss to Felicity’s temple.  He wanted the people watching to think they were just comforting each other, not sharing secret information.  “It can’t look like we’re keeping secrets, but anything we don’t want them to hear, we need to say like this.”

Oliver spoke directly into her ear and while he was certain this was the best possible course of action, he also had the strong impulse to take the lobe into his mouth.  It was right there.  He could see where the piercings had been, or rather, he remembered where they once were, because the skin was smooth now.  As if they had never been. 

It was upsetting. Oliver loved those piercings.  They were so… _Felicity_.    If that tattoo completely faded away, he was going to be royally pissed.

“So, this little girl, Amy,” Felicity finally whispered, leaning into him and stretching up to reach his ear, making him shiver and hunch down to give her better access.  “She certainly drank the Kool-Aid.”  


Oliver chuckled.  Felicity always had a way with words.  “Or the fruit juice.”

Felicity’s hand fisted on his chest and she bit her lip.  “You think she’s being drugged too?”

“I think she’s too young choose any of this of her own free will.”

"Whatever _this_ is.” Felicity murmured, moving her arms to encircle his torso.  To be fair, she was on her toes and probably needed him for balance.  “Amy seemed like a true believer to me.”

“She’s being used,” Oliver argued.  “Manipulated.  She’s as much a victim as we are.”

Felicity shivered.  “So, you think she’s been kidnapped as well?”

“What else?”

Felicity’s shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug.  “She could have been born and bred to this life.  Maybe Amy’s _parents_ are true believers or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Oliver repeated.  He hadn’t considered that she was born here.  But they had no idea what _here_ was.  Were their captor’s villains or a cult?  Had Amy fed them an elaborate lie or did the people in charge actually believe what she was saying?  Were Oliver and Felicity just a science experiment to them?  Hell, this could be an alien abduction for all they knew.

When Felicity swallowed it sounded startlingly loud, given how close her throat was to his ear.  “Are we always going to have to talk like this…this _close_?” she asked softly.

After she said it, Oliver realized that as he had been stroking Felicity’s back, that the sheet had started to slip and, though, it still separated her breasts from his chest, it was a rather flimsy barrier. 

When Oliver didn’t speak, because, apparently, he had temporarily lost his _ability_ to speak, Felicity continued, “Because this might not be the best thing for my nerves.”

“Are you starting to feel nervous again?” Oliver whispered back.  It was the only thing he could think of to say.  The only thing _safe_ to say.  The urge to bite Felicity’s ear was back and his cock was taking notice again.  He had to shift his hips away from hers.

“Not really.  A little.  I don’t know, maybe nervous isn’t the best word.”  Felicity nuzzled her nose into Oliver’s chest and his breath hissed. 

She must have noticed, because she pulled out of Oliver’s arms, fumbling with her toga and trying to ruck it up over her chest.  “So…umm…” Felicity babbled, back to her regular volume.  “I’m hungry.” She held up the edge of a sheet like a wedding dress...and why did _that_ make his heart flip. 

Oliver adjusted the damn towel.  He should probably toga the comforter… 

“Wait.  What?  No!  You can’t eat that!” Oliver burst out when he realized what she was doing.

Felicity gave him a wide eyed, sarcastic look as she settled herself on the pillows surrounding the table.  “What _else_ are we supposed to eat?”

Oliver gritted his teeth, thought about trying to keep his voice down, and decided he really didn’t care.  “Not _that_.  It’s drugged.  She _admitted_ that it was drugged.”

“Well, I for one, appreciate Amy’s honestly,” Felicity murmured as she looked over the food.

“ _Felicity_!” Oliver gaped, stalking over to her.

She rolled her eyes, looking up at Oliver like he was an over protective fool.   Which he did _not_ appreciate.  

“Amy also said that they would get the drug into us one way or another and those vents,” Felicity gestured to the wall, “is the pleasant way.  More likely, they will shove a tube down our throats or administer the drugs with needles.”  She reached over to pour the juice Amy had brought.  “And as you know, I _hate_ needles.”

“ _Felicity_ …” Oliver tried to warn, but she was full on determined to ignore him.  

“We’re kinda at their mercy here, Oliver.  In case you haven’t noticed.  I’m going to go ahead and pick my poison.”  Felicity looked over the tray as Oliver came to stand over her.  “No silverware,” she sighed.  Then she shook her head and raised her voice, “Apparently, we’re going to use the spoons to dig a hole to China or stab little girls with forks.”

Oliver pressed his lips together to keep from smiling, all the while he was calculating the risks of allowing Felicity to ingest the food versus trying to stop her.  _If_ he could stop her.  _And_ if his trying would get them separated, which was the last thing he wanted.

The tray held a pitcher of juice, this one more of a pinkish red, two loaves of bread, one almost black, the other a brown full of seeds and nuts, and four bowls of…Oliver watched in horror as Felicity broke off a piece of the dark bread and dipped it in a bowl of a thick caramel colored substance.

Oliver would swear it was instinct that had him on his knees next to her in an instant, her wrist in his hand before Felicity could get the bread halfway to her mouth.

“Hey,” Felicity squealed.

But before she could protest any further, Oliver pulled her hand to his mouth instead.  He devoured the entire bite, fingers and all, sucking and licking to make sure not a single morsel was left.

Felicity’s breath hitched and she stared at Oliver, her eyes wide and befudled, her chest rising and falling visibly.

Oliver licked his lips as he let her hand fall from his fingers numbly, possibly even more shocked by his own behavior than Felicity was.   He sat back and adjusted the pillows on his lap, trying to pretend he knew what the hell he was doing, that he had some control here. 

Well, Oliver had control over pillows.  Pillows were a very, very good thing at the moment.  He placed one…ok, two…in his lap.  Pillows were important.

“ _Oliver_ —”

“Almond butter,” he whispered, “not bad.”  It came out huskier than Oliver had intended.

Felicity nodded, almost trance-like, and asked softly, “Can I have some, then?”

Nodding, Oliver tore off a piece of the same dark bread and dipped it in the almond butter before handing it to her.  To her actual hand.  Not her mouth.  Because the sexual tension…high enough.

Felicity chewed on the bread a little too slowly, a little too sensually.  And did she _have_ to lick her lips like that when she ate?  Oliver couldn’t remember if she always did that.  He thought he would have noticed if she did.

“Mmm,” Felicity hummed and Oliver swore it was to torture him.  Then she went to grab the juice she’d poured—

Oliver snatched it out of her hand and chugged half the glass without thinking.

Blinking at him, Felicity barked out a laugh.  “Oliver what are you…wait, you’ve got to be kidding me!  Are you really tasting everything first?  Like this is Ancient Egypt or… _Game of Thrones_ or something?”

“Umm…Yeah?” 

Because, actually, that had been exactly what Oliver had been doing.  Even though he had never formed the conscious thought.

“That’s _absurd_!”  Felicity’s voice squeaked.  She was starting to switch over to her loud voice and Oliver winced.

“No, it’s not.  It makes perfect sense, I’m…” Oliver struggled to maintain eye contact.  There was no good way to finish that sentence.  What was he supposed to say?  That he was stronger?  Healthier?  More dispensable?  “…bigger,” he finished, lamely.

But he handed Felicity what was left of the juice as a consolation, though Oliver was careful to give himself a full minute to react to the stuff before he let her taste it. 

Felicity frowned as she took the glass, but she drank it, never taking her eyes from Oliver.  She held his stare, with challenge in her eyes, as she tore off a piece of the other bread and dipped it in a dark purple substance.  Wordlessly, she dared him to stop her.

Oliver waited until the food was a bare inch from Felicity’s lips before he lashed out and grabbed her hand.  But this time, Felicity fought him.  “Stop.  I can eat my own…let me…Get _off_!”

He managed to get the bread into his mouth.  Oliver was stronger than her, but Felicity was wiggly.  And determined.  She, also, had the advantage of the fact that he didn’t want to hurt her.  She twisted and turned as she struggled for leverage and tried to capture some of the purple stuff in her mouth as it dripped down her arm. 

But Oliver pulled her up by the hand, almost lifting her off the ground as his lips found the sweet substance first, licking Felicity’s entire arm, making sure he got every drop.

“Ugh,” Felicity grunted, but this time she didn’t pause.  While, Oliver was still cleaning her arm…yes, with his tongue, damn it… she reached out with her other hand and grabbed a handful of what looked like chutney, leaning forward to eat it out of her palm.

But Oliver was fast as well as strong and he grabbed her waist, hauling her back, letting go of the jelly hand to grab the chutney hand.  Felicity played dirty, trying to tickle him with the now free, and slightly sticky, jelly-residue hand, kicking out and bucking as she tried to get him off of her.

But Felicity was giggling now, fairly uncontrollably.  Oliver was smiling and only a little part of that was from being the tiniest bit ticklish.  He got to the chutney first.  Of course, he did.  But the chutney, it fought back, splashing all over both of them.  Down her arm and on her chin.  Across the side of his face and splattering across his chest.

He managed to grab both Felicity’s hands and get them secured in one of his, while she giggled and gasped, never for a moment giving in.  “Oliver, don’t…” 

It was time to finish this, before she wore him down.  Oliver used his free hand to dip his fingers into the final bowl, taking a healthy taste of the last offering…hummus it turned out.  All of the food was good, not that he was paying much attention to the taste.   Not with Felicity wiggling and laughing against him.  Not with her skin under his lips.

Oliver, had absolutely no idea why this was so important to him.  Why he _had_ to make sure each bite was safe before Felicity ate it, even though he _knew_ it _wasn’t_ safe, knew there was a good chance they wouldn’t know the full effects of the drugs for much longer than Oliver was able to keep Felicity from eating.

But it was fun and…well, it was important to him.  It just was.  So, Oliver turned to Felicity and proceeded to eat every last drop of food that was left off her body, because…well, because he was apparently a masochist with no impulse control.

And Felicity wriggled and moaned and laughed as he did it.  She took Oliver off guard when she lunged, managing to capture the chutney remnants on his cheek.

A spark of electricity ran from the spot her mouth touched straight to his groin.  Truthfully, the entire wrestling match had Oliver’s body humming.  Her sheet was loose now and he was ready to tackle Felicity to the pillows and….

Oliver forced himself to sit back, to let Felicity go.  Adjusting the pillows as subtly as he could, he told her breathlessly, “Ok.  I’m not dead.  You can eat now.”

Felicity collapsed back onto her elbows, laughing helplessly.  “Was that _really_ necessary?”

Shrugging, Oliver’s gaze skittered away.  “It made me feel better.”  It was odd, because that was the truth of it.  He felt this primal need to protect her, stronger than he’d ever felt in the past, for _anyone_ , and in some small way, he felt like he had.

“Well, if _you_ feel better…”  Felicity rolled her eyes as she sat up and Oliver mourned because the way she had been lounging back on the pillows was simply gorgeous.  He could have stared at her like that forever.

Oliver dipped two fingers into the blackberry mixture and brought it to her lips, before the thought of doing so was even fully formed in his mind.  “Here.  Try.  It’s delicious.”

Meeting Oliver’s gaze, Felicity leaned forward and took his fingers into her mouth, which…well, what the hell else did he expect her to do?  What was he doing, anyway?  It made no sense.  For months, he had been fighting himself to keep from flirting with her and he was…what?  This went _way_ beyond flirting.  This was practically foreplay. 

But Oliver could no more stop himself, then he could keep from watching Felicity’s plump lips as the wrapped around his fingers, from looking for that quick flash of tongue as she captured the last drop.

Oliver felt it straight in his cock and when Felicity licked her lips and murmured, “MMmmm, blackberry,” he wasn’t sure he could stand it.

But, still, he turned to the table and tore off another piece of bread.  Using it as a spoon he scooped up the chutney and presented it to Felicity to eat.  This was insane.  Self-torture.  Don’t get him wrong, feeding Felicity was nothing short of transcendental, but it was also so, so stupid.  And, yet, he couldn’t make himself stop.

“Felicity?” Oliver whispered.  “Do you feel drugged?”

She jerked back at his words, dropping her hand from his wrist, almost as if she were shocked out of a trance.  “I…I don’t know.”  Felicity swallowed, her eyes darting away before she turned and poured another glass on the pink juice. “Do you?”

Oliver laughed, though there was very little humor in it.  “It doesn’t feel like any drug I’ve ever tried.”

Drinking, Felicity’s eyes flickered to Oliver then back to the food.  “Have you tried many kinds?”

“Not as many as you’d think,” Oliver confessed, feeling irrationally ashamed.  “I always preferred good old fashioned alcohol.”

“Well.” Felicity paused in preparing another bite to blow out a long breath.  Part of Oliver was relieved that she was now feeding herself, another part wanted grab the bread and take over again.  “I don’t _feel_ drunk.”

“Me neither,” Oliver murmured.  Drunk on her maybe.  His body hummed.  His mouth watered.  He wanted Felicity more than he had ever wanted anything.  But was that the drugs?  Or was it just her?  It was almost impossible to tell.

“Well, my only experience with any other kind of drugs was that ill-fated pot brownie incident.”

“Right, because of the nuts…”  Somehow, actual fear started to settled in Oliver’s stomach. 

“Peanuts actually,” Felicity continued, “which was why I hadn’t really questioned the brownie.  Who puts peanuts in brownies?  It’s usually walnuts—”

Oliver grabbed her hand on the way to her mouth, again.  “You’re allergic to peanuts!”

“Yes…” Felicity confirmed, in a voice that made it clear she thought Oliver was completely insane.

“There are nuts in these!”  Jesus Christ, didn’t Felicity pay attention to what she was eating?  How was she not going into anaphylaxis all the time?  This was not ok!  This was kind of horrifying.

But Felicity only smiled, placing a hand over his where he was keeping her from eating the mouthful.  “Oliver, I’m only allergic to peanuts, not tree nuts.”

“Are you _certain_ there are no peanuts in this?”  Oliver demanded, more frantic than he would have liked.  Turning, he yelled at the ceiling, “She’s allergic to peanuts!  If there are any peanuts in anything here, you had _better_ get the hell in here!”  

Laughing, Felicity gasped, “ _Oliver_.”

“It’s not funny,” Oliver growled, because, sure, he was acting a little crazy, but, Christ, an allergy like this was no laughing matter.

“No,” Felicity agreed, though it was clear she was placating him.  “It’s cute.  _You’re_ cute.”  And for some reason the way she said it made Oliver warm all over.  “And there are _no_ peanuts here.”

Oliver looked Felicity over carefully, trying to judge whether she was being completely truthful.  “How can you be sure?”  If she said it was because she didn’t _taste_ peanuts, he was going to lose it.

Felicity sighed.  “I’m pretty good at recognizing peanuts, but even if I weren’t, I’m sure after your… _announcement_ someone would be in here already.  Whatever is going on here, they clearly don’t want us dead.”  Then she turned on her full hundred-watt smile and patted Oliver’s thigh.  “See, you saved me.  My knight in shining armor.”

His breath hitched and his cock actually made the pillow move.  What was Oliver supposed to say in response to _that_?  “You shouldn’t have the almond butter.”

It probably wasn’t the right thing to say, because not only did Felicity pop the hummus bread in her mouth, but she deliberately turned and began spreading almond butter on another piece of bread.  The bread with _nuts_ in it.  With her fingers.

“I eat almond butter all the time.  It’s an excellent alternative to _peanut_ butter.”  Felicity added the blackberry jam to the top.  Again, with her fingers.  Oliver couldn’t help but think that they had done this on purpose, made them eat with their fingers, just because it was so damn sexy.  But even knowing that it was a manipulation didn’t lessen the effect.

“But—”

Felicity turned and placed the bite to his lips instead of hers, catching Oliver off-guard.  “Here, you try.”

Oliver opened his mouth and just like that, they were back to that moment right after their wrestling match, when he had to fight himself not to kiss her.

“Good?” Felicity asked, her raspy voice vibrating over his skin.

Oliver nodded, slowly, feeling like he was under water.  Maybe he _did_ feel drunk.  “But I’m not allergic.”

Felicity licked the remnants off her fingers, somehow smearing jam on her cheek as she did.  “You missed some.”  Oliver swiped the drop off with his thumb and offered it to her.  She took it into her mouth and sucked.

Oliver breath hissed.  “We’re drugged,” he muttered, to remind himself more than anything else.

"Probably," Felicity answered without allowing his thumb to escape, instead sinking her teeth into the fleshy part.

For some stupid reason, Oliver didn’t pull his hand back.  Instead, he traced her lips with his now wet thumb, mesmerized by how soft they felt, how amazing they looked, moist and pink, even as he argued, “We’re doing things that are out of character.”

“Are we?”

Well, _that_ was an interesting philosophic question, one Oliver wasn’t capable of answering at the moment.  “We are doing and saying things we wouldn’t do under normal circumstances.  It raises the question of consent.”

Oliver was trying so hard to be strong.  But it was becoming harder and harder to remember why he wasn’t kissing her.  He started to sway toward her, feeling drawn by some invisible force, which was a really dumb cliché, but it was true, dammit.

"Oliver,” Felicity whispered, just a breath away now.  Oliver could taste the fruit juice on her breath.  “You can pretty much assume, no matter what, that you _always_ have my consent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter was so long it made my eyes cross. It’s practically a double chapter, so don’t get used to it ;), the only reason I didn’t cut it in half is…I don’t know, I felt like it was a better chapter all together. But editing it was exhausting. It took me 5 days to do the final edit. It didn’t help that in the middle I had a crisis, when my friend brought up some serious concerns about Amy. 
> 
> I need to thank **ireland1733** and **dontyou-forgetaboutme89** for talking me off a ledge as far as that one was concerned. If anyone is particularly bothered by having a child involved in this mess (which you should be. In no way do I think having a child involved in an abduction is ok) then feel free to message me on Tumblr, I would be happy to discuss it with you and/or give you any spoilers that will help ease your mind. 
> 
> On the subject of Felicity’s nut allergy. For some reason when I wrote this I had it in my head that it was a peanut allergy. When I realized it was probably a tree nut allergy, I considered rewriting the entire scene, but instead decided to full on commit to the peanut thing because it worked better for this story. (For those of you that don’t know, there are two main kinds of nut allergies, peanut and tree nut and they don’t necessarily overlap). I hope no one is too upset by it. 
> 
> Again, thank you to **fairytalehearts** for being a fantastic Beta and having wonderful insights. 
> 
> I’m very excited about the response I’ve gotten so far with this story. Thanks to everyone who left a comment and/or kudos. Keep ‘em coming ;) I hope this story is helping to provide escapism from the anxiety of what’s currently happening on the show as it does for me. 
> 
> Thanks again


	4. A Matter of Consent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No. It’s cute.  _You’re_ cute. And there are _no_ peanuts here.”

God, that was lame and, also, kind of tipping Felicity’s hat a little much when it came to her _feelings_ toward Oliver, but…

Know what?  Felicity was really starting to not care.  Oliver was cute.  _Beyond_ cute and wonderful and caring and she was starting to feel like she was ready to dive into the deep end of whatever this thing between her and Oliver was.  She didn’t even care if there was a drug… _lubricating_ the wheels.  She just didn’t.

“How can you be sure?”  Oliver demanded and Felicity knew that if she told him she could tell that she hadn’t eaten peanuts because her throat wasn’t itching, he was probably going to flip out. 

“I’m pretty good at recognizing peanuts.”  Which was true, usually.  Felicity actually hadn’t been paying all that close attention this time `cause naked Oliver and competition and sexiness… How was anyone supposed to concentrate under these conditions?  “But even if I weren’t, I’m sure after your… _announcement_ someone would be in here already.  Whatever is going on here, they clearly don’t want us dead.” 

Felicity was sure _that_ was true.  These Nirvana Wakados… and seriously, Nirvana?  A place where one experiences oblivion to pain, worry, and the external world?  _For_ _Real_?  It was both ironic _and_ on the nose.  Arrogant and disturbing.    Just thinking about what their abductors had named this place made Felicity shiver.  Or laugh, as the case may be.

But regardless, the Wakados didn’t go through all this trouble to have Felicity die of anaphylaxis, so she turned her brightest smile on Oliver, saying, “See, you saved me.  My knight in shining armor.”

It came out naturally and Felicity wasn’t even embarrassed.  It felt nice.  Wonderful even.  In that moment, she felt happy and confident and incredibly turned on.  Also, looking at Oliver, she had never felt more connected, more in-tune with another human being. 

With every passing moment, she was becoming more convinced that the attraction she felt was very much _not_ unrequited as she had assumed for more than a year and a half.  Felicity made a decision in that moment not to hold back.  To just say what she wanted to say.  Filtering herself was exhausting and she’d never have a better excuse to do and say as she pleased.

The heat in Oliver’s eyes flared brighter.  Dear God, it could set her on fire and she was already smoldering.  The pillow jumped in his lap and Felicity had to bite her lip from letting out a delighted laugh at the physical evidence of his desire for her. 

Oliver desired _her_.  Felicity was certain of it.  It was kinda, sorta, mind-blowing!

“You shouldn’t have the almond butter.”

He was grasping at straws and Felicity knew it.  This really wasn’t about nuts anymore.  Oliver was just throwing up road-blocks.  He just needed to realize how futile it was to fight this insane attraction between them. 

“I eat almond butter all the time.  It’s an excellent alternative to _peanut_ butter.” 

Felicity coated her fingers with the sticky substance, listening to Oliver’s breath hitch as she did so.  Giving into this was going to be fun.  She felt the warmth of his gaze as she added the blackberry jam.  She had never realized how deliciously sensual eating with your fingers could be.    

“But—”

“Here, you try.” Felicity shut him up by putting her fingers in his mouth and it was ridiculously satisfying.   Both in the sense of ha-that-shut-him-up, but also, in a, wow-that-felt-incredible way.  And, yet, it wasn’t satisfying enough, because her breasts ached and her core too and, suddenly, or _not so suddenly_ , it wasn’t her fingers she wanted Oliver’s tongue wrapped around.

Felicity felt a warm gush between her thighs and shifted restlessly in her seat.  Their abductors did _not_ think through this white thing.  Seriously.  The _stains_.  The sheet and pillows where now streaked with blackberry jam and peach syrup.  And that wasn’t even taking into account the embarrassing bodily fluid marks that she was quite certain were being left behind. 

It was really something that their captors should have taken into consideration, because Felicity was seriously starting to think that they _wanted_ her and Oliver to… it sounded ridiculous, but she was starting to believe that these _nut-jobs_ wanted her and Oliver to get together. 

Oh, who was she kidding?  Felicity was starting to think they wanted them to have _sex_.  Who the hell knows _why_ they would want that.  Unless, they wanted to video them.  But this was a little too…well-thought out and intricate to just be about blackmail or porn.

Also, Amy’s words ‘bonding,’ ‘couple,’ and, heaven help them, ‘perfect match’ reverberated in Felicity’s head.  Which was pretty odd, even for porn.  Then there was the fact that Felicity was starting to have a sneaky suspicion that there was maybe some sort of aphrodisiac in this food.

But the strangest part was that Felicity really didn’t care.  And she didn’t think that was so much the drugs as the relief of finally being able to embrace how she felt about Oliver.

“Good?” Felicity managed to ask, amazed that her voice still worked.   Oliver was breathing fast at this point.  His chest rising and falling visibly, nostrils flaring.  Felicity knew it wasn’t from fear, so there was only one explanation.  Having working eyesight was kinda awesome and not only because he was the _most_ beautiful thing, but also because, sometimes, his face was an open book. 

Oliver nodded, saying in his sexy Arrow voice, “But I’m not allergic.”

Ugh.  Seriously?  Oliver just wouldn’t give up on this allergy thing.  Felicity popped the rest of the bite into her mouth.  Maybe he would be convinced when she didn’t do her imitation of a puffer fish.

But then Oliver murmured, “You missed some,” his calloused thumb brushing her cheek before offering her the jelly streaked appendage.

Felicity couldn’t help but smile as she took his thumb into her mouth, keeping eye contact the entire time.  She could almost _feel_ Oliver’s reactions as she ran her tongue and teeth over his thumb, his pupils dilating and his eyelids drooping.

Oliver breath hissed.   “We’re drugged.”

So?  Maybe they were, but Felicity’s body was buzzing, her skin was tingling and alive.  She was completely aware of every part her body, every sensation…and every part of Oliver’s too.  Even the part that he was trying so hard to hide under that pillow.  Particularly _that_ part.  It may seem like what she was feeling was at least intensified by the drugs. 

But, then again, just having Oliver this close, having him touch her so casually yet with such clear _want_ , his tongue touching her body…did Felicity really need _drugs_ to feel like this?

"Probably," Felicity agreed, biting Oliver’s thumb and hoping to distract him.  When he traced her lips with his thumb, she thought it must have worked.  How could he think about _anything_? 

“We’re doing things that are out of character.”

“Are we?” 

Because as far as Felicity was concerned it didn’t feel out of character.  In fact, she felt more _in_ _character_ than she had felt in a long time.  She felt free.  Free to be completely herself.

“We are doing and saying things we wouldn’t do under normal circumstances.  It raises the question of consent.”  But even as he made the argument Oliver swayed toward her.

He was rather wonderful, still fighting it, still trying to do the right thing.  The honorable thing.  Her Oliver.  He had come so far.  The Ollie of old couldn’t have cared less about ambiguous consent.  And, unfortunately, how much he cared now just made Felicity want him more, which she hadn’t actually thought possible.  And that just made her want him to _stop_ _fighting_ this already!

"Oliver, you can pretty much assume, no matter what, that you _always_ have my consent.”

Because this was Oliver.  The man who had saved her life countless times, saved her city, who Felicity had desired before she met him and loved almost as long.  There was nothing he could do, nothing he _would_ do, that she wasn’t completely, totally, absolutely okay with.  She trusted him more than she trusted herself.

But, instead of surrendering as she’d hoped, Oliver blew out a long breath and looked away.  If anything, he seemed to pull away, his eyes finding a spot of in the distance as he murmured, “You’re making this really difficult, Felicity.”

Difficult?  _She_ was being difficult?  Well, Felicity wished she was just a little bit more difficult to resist, because Oliver seemed to do it _so_ well.

“Oliver, have you ever kissed a drunk girl?” Felicity asked, the frustrated words just popping out of her mouth.

His eyes snapped back to her, a guilty look on his face.  Great, guilt, just the emotion Felicity was hoping to inspire.  “You know I have,” Oliver admitted.

“This is no—”

Oliver caught her chin and forced Felicity to look him in the eye.  “But I have never kissed or _anything_ else a girl, a _woman,_ who was so drunk or stoned that she was beyond consent.”

“And you think _I’m_ beyond consent?”  Felicity whispered, finding the eye-contact almost too intense now, mostly because Oliver wasn’t letting her break it.  “Or do you think _you’re_ beyond consent?”

"I think _we’re_ not in our right minds.”

Swallowing, Felicity removed Oliver’s hand from her chin and determinedly went back to the food.  She needed a breath.  And something to do with her hands.  Hummus would have to do.   Protein was always a good thing, right? 

Maybe, Oliver felt like his desire for her was out of character.  Maybe it wasn’t something he lived with on a day to day basis the way Felicity did.  The thought was more than enough to take the wind out of her sails.

“Funny,” Felicity said, when she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake, “I feel like I’ve never been clearer.”  She popped a bite into her mouth and muttered, “It’s nice to have all that anxiety and self-doubt gone.”  But maybe there was still a tiny bit of self-doubt, even if it was the logical kind.  Though, the logical kind, it seemed, it was the most painful.

"Hey." Oliver grabbed her hand.  "They took it away for a reason.”

Forcing herself to look at him again, Felicity asked, “Do you have any idea what that reason is?”

Oliver shook his head, doing that thing where he licked his lips again.  If he wasn’t going to kiss her, he really needed to stop doing that.  Then he went and made it worse be leaning in and so those lips were almost brushing Felicity’s ear.

“To make us placid?  So we won’t want to escape?” Oliver whispered so softly she could barely make it out.  “What’s that Greek legend?  The lotus plant?”

It was odd, but even as Felicity wanted him to give her distance, she realized that having him this close made her feel calmer.   “Oliver, you know _The Odyssey_?  You big faker, pretending to an uneducated ignoramus?”

“Ignoramus, Felicity?”  Oliver chuckled, low and soft.  His demeanor softening as well.  Yes, touching helped.  “I may have taken a mythology class in College number two.”  But then he broke eye contact, his smile both mischievous and bashful.  “Though, mostly, I just read _Percy Jackson_ to get through it.”

Felicity laughed out loud at that, because it was so something she could see a young Oliver Queen doing.  “ _The Odyssey_ version of the lotus plant wasn’t exactly a casino where every wish was fulfilled.”  But if Oliver thought that, did it mean she was something he had wished for?

“I know that,” Oliver defended. “I also read _Spark Notes_.”  It made Felicity giggle and, suddenly, it was fun again, even if they were discussing being drugged and manipulated.  “I actually passed that particular semester, I’ll have you know.”

“Well, in the _actual_ Homer,” Felicity told him, “Odysseus’ crew landed on an island and after eating the lotus blossom they had no desire to leave.  They were so content that they forgot all about home and family.” 

Licking her bottom lip as it was suddenly dry, Felicity leaned even closer, so that both their faces were obscured from anyone watching by her hair.  “But I still want to go home.  I would still take the first opportunity to do so, but that doesn’t...” she swallowed.  Time for that leap of faith.  “…that _doesn’t_ mean that I don’t want you, too.  I wanted you _before_.  I want you _now_.”

Swallowing, Felicity pulled back, just enough so that she could look Oliver in the eyes and he…he looked as if he were holding his breath.  “So, you see, it’s not a matter of consent for me.  It is something I already wanted, something I _already_ consented to.  But…” 

Just because Felicity didn’t have the gut wrenching anxiety and insecurity, didn’t mean she didn’t get the thoughts that came with them and, unfortunately, giving false confidence was not something this drug did. 

“…But maybe it _is_ for you.  Are the drugs making you want something you didn’t want before?” It took all of Felicity’s courage to ask that particular question.   Her gaze dropped as she sat back, giving him enough distance to answer.

Oliver’s hands fell to her shoulders, keeping her from pulling away and Felicity’s eyes flew back up in time to see him whisper in an almost growl, “You _know_ that’s not true.”

“Do I?” Felicity’s voice was both completely without pretense and oddly even.  “I’m not exactly your type.”

With a bark of self-deprecating laughter, Oliver’s eyes found the ceiling.  “No, you’re not.”

Felicity turned back to the food.  Well, at least, she knew she could still feel pain—

“You are so out of my league, it’s not even funny.”

Felicity’s eyes snapped back to him.  Oliver was still looking at the ceiling with a pained expression.  God, she’d bet her life that he was being completely honest and it was…unbelievable. 

Oliver dragged a hand over his face.  “Felicity, it has _never_ been about me not wanting you.”

“Then what _is_ it about?”  Because Felicity spent more than a year and a half certain that that was _exactly_ what it was about.

“It’s about this,” Oliver gestured between them almost frantically, “being a really bad idea.”  He closed his eyes and his head dropped back.  “Though, I can’t think of a single reason why right now and _that’s_ because of the drugs.”

Felicity swayed toward him as if his words pulled her.  “Maybe that’s because those reasons aren’t important.”

Oliver’s eyes snapped open.  “They _are_.  They _are_ important,” he insisted with a passion that was not even a little bit dimmed by the drugs.

Well, Felicity could be just as passionate.  “Well, the only reason that I care about, is that you don’t want _this_.”  She copied his movement, gesturing between them.  “That you don’t want _me_.”

Because it was true.  The _only_ thing that held her back from pursuing this _thing_ was the belief that Oliver didn’t feel the same way.  It was a belief that was fading fast.  And, maybe, he didn’t feel _exactly_ the same way as she felt about him, but if she were right, and she believed she was, it was close enough that Felicity could work with it.

“Well, I’m more concerned about your safety,” Oliver snapped.

Felicity was taken aback.  Not by his words, because that was _typical_ Oliver, but because this was the first thing that she had seen from him that resembled real anger since they had gotten there.

“Oliver, take a look around.  There is no _safety_ here.  We don’t even know where here _is_!  We’re completely at their mercy.”

“Exactly!”

There was a rush of blood to Felicity’s face that was almost like anger, but not quite the same.  “No!  Not _exactly_.  Not at _all_.    We don’t know if this has anything to do with you.  We don’t know if they took us because you are Oliver Queen or because I have a ridiculously high IQ that they want to exploit.”

Oliver pressed his lips together and by the flash in his eyes Felicity knew she was finally getting through to him, so she pressed on, “Or they could have seen us in a magazine together and decided that our eye color matched!”  She was on a roll now and was almost enjoying this.  Dropping her voice, she leaned closer to his ear.  “As far as we know, this has _nothing_ to do with how we spend our nights.”

When Oliver spoke his voice was quiet and hoarse, unsure, “I’m not sure what your point is—”

“The point _is_ you can be as concerned about my safety all you want.  But I don’t see how _this_ …” again Felicity gestured between them, “…is going to make me any _less_ safe.  Especially, given the circumstances.”

Oliver’s only response was to look away.  And to find a piece of bread to roll between him thumb and forefinger, forming it into a ball.

“We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if it weren’t for the drugs,” Oliver finally whispered.

“Well maybe we should have,” Felicity snapped.  Ohhh… now she saw it.  This wasn’t anger.  It was _passion_.  “Maybe,” this time she took Oliver’s chin and made _him_ look at _her_ , “we should have had this conversation a month ago on a different island.”

She saw the flash of recognition in Oliver’s eyes.  Felicity knew that he understood that she meant that moment on Lian Yu when she had given him the opportunity to talk to her about what he said in mansion, about this…about _them._  

And he’d deflected.  Felicity now understood what it was now.  Not rejection.  _Deflection_.  Which meant Oliver had wanted her then, just as he wanted her now.

“Felicity.”  Oliver took the hand that was still on his chin and pulled it away, but when she thought he’d let go, he didn’t.  He squeezed her fingers with his.  “I don’t want to pull you any further into the darkness with me.”

“It didn’t bother you with Sara.”  Okay, that just slipped out.  Maybe Felicity needed to rethink this whole say whatever came to her head plan.

Wait.  _No_.  If Oliver was going to say he couldn’t be with her, Felicity damn well wanted to know why he _could_ be with Sara.

Oliver laughed his bitter laugh.  “Sara was…Jesus, Felicity when Sara came home, she was in just as much pain as I was.  More.  She was drowning in darkness.  I thought…” He rubbed a hand over his face.  “I thought I could help her.  That we could help each other.”

Felicity could only blink at that.  “You chose Sara because she’s more messed up than you are?  Because I don’t know if I’m ok with that.”  Sara was good person and wonderful friend.  The whole idea didn’t sit right.

“No.  We just…it was comforting.  I didn’t have to worry about...” Then tilting his head to the side, Oliver seemed to be contemplating her.  “Felicity?” he asked, almost sounding confused.  “Do you… did you actually think I chose Sara _over_ you?”

“Didn’t you?”  Wow, these drugs really were liquid courage.  Felicity kind of liked it.

“No!”  Oliver almost sounded insulted by the idea.  Though, she had no idea what he had expected her to think.   Sometimes, he was such an idiot.  “Felicity, my choosing _not_ to pursue this thing between us was a completely separate thing from what I had with Sara.  I decided keeping _our_ relationship platonic was for the best long before I even knew Sara was still alive.”

Felicity screwed up her mouth and she knew she probably looked like she had just eaten a lemon, but she couldn’t help it.  Because that did _not_ help.  Not at all.  Apparently, the drugs still allowed for the bitter sting of jealousy.

“Felicity?  Have you been…jealous?  Of Sara?”

Seriously?  Why was Oliver pushing this so hard?  Also, was he _totally_ oblivious?  “ _Obviously_ , Oliver. I wasn’t very good at hiding it.  Ask Dig.  Ask Roy.  Hell, ask Sara.  She ignored it, but I’m damn certain she noticed, so don’t tell me you didn’t.”

“Felicity you jumped in front of bullet for her.  You got tattoos together.  I thought you and Sara were friends!”

“Of course, we were friends!  _Are_ friends,” Felicity burst out.  Men could be so stupid.  “What does that have to do with anything?  Just because I was hurt that you chose her, doesn’t mean I don’t like Sara.  She’s an awesome person.  A great friend—”

Felicity broke off at the sound of Oliver’s chuckle.  “So, you’re saying that even being intimidated and jealous of Sara it never occurred to you not embrace her completely as a member of the team and as a friend?” 

“Of course not.”  Did he think so little of her or of woman in general?  “Why would it?

Oliver shook his head and gazed at her in awe.  For all his experience he knew woman _not_ at all.  “Why?  I…I, honestly, have never met another woman like you and I’ve known some pretty exceptional women.”  His other hand grazed her cheek.  “Have I told you lately how remarkable you are?”

Scoffing, Felicity pulled her hand out of Oliver’s.  She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or insulted for Sara and all women everywhere.  “You say that, but…”  But it never _goes_ anywhere.  Maybe she shouldn’t have started this after all.  

“Felicity.” Oliver didn’t let her escape, forcefully grabbing both her hands this time.  “You are my best friend.  My partner.  I couldn’t run my business without you.  I couldn’t run my other activities without you.  You are probably the most important person in my life.  Protecting you is my _first_ priority.”

Then Oliver had to go and say things like that.  Biting her lip, Felicity could feel her eyes fill with tears.  Apparently, the drugs allowed for that as well. 

“So you’re what?” Felicity choked out.  “You’re protecting me from _you_?”  But now she was clutching Oliver’s hands back and she couldn’t make herself stop.

Oliver nodded one single, decisive nod.  “If I need to.” 

“But I don’t need to be protected from _you_.  I don’t _want_ to be.” A tear fell over, but wiping it away meant freeing her fingers from his so Felicity let it fall. 

Oliver’s hands clenched and for a minute it was almost painful the way he held hers.  “Somethings are more important than what we _want_.”

And they had come full circle.  They were right back where they started.  Felicity didn’t know what else she could do or say to make Oliver see.  Her head fell forward, her eyes closed and she took a deep, shaky breath.

But when Felicity opened them, Oliver was looking at her with such longing.  This went beyond lust.  Beyond want.   Swallowing, she reached out and cupped his cheek.  He nuzzled into her palm, making her hope.  She traced his lips with her finger and he kissed it, causing her heart to skip a beat.

It gave Felicity the courage to murmur, “Oliver, what has denying yourself what you want, denying _us_ , ever gotten you?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Then, suddenly, Oliver’s hand was tangled in her hair and he was so, so close, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing heavy.  “Felicity…Felicity do you remember the time in the mansion…that time…”

Felicity let out a hysterical little laugh.  Of all things, she never expected Oliver to bring _that_ up.  “The time you told me Slade had the wrong woman, you mean?  That you—?”

“He _did_.  He did have the wrong woman,” Oliver whispered, so low she could barely hear over the roaring of her heart in her ears.  “But that’s not…what I meant to say, to ask is…Felicity, do you know why I didn’t kiss you, then?  After I told you… _that_?”

Okay.  So, this was a lot to process, because a) he just said that Felicity _was_ the person it would most devastate him to lose, but b) he was very clearly avoiding saying ‘I love you’ and c) whoa…what kiss?  There was almost a kiss? 

“I hadn’t realized that…was that a _something_?  A something that almost happened?” Felicity gasped, trying to comprehend it all.  She ran through the memory, it was burned into her brain after all, as brief as it was.  

There _had_ been a point where Felicity had thought Oliver might kiss her, but it was gone before she knew it and then there was a syringe being placed in her hands.  That was when she’d known it was all a trick.  A brilliant, heart-breaking, lifesaving trick.

It was Oliver’s turn to chuckle, half-hysterical, half-self-deprecating.  “Oh, it was a possibility.  It was almost an inevitability, but, somehow, I was able to stop.”

Felicity’s brain was on overload, trying to analyze all this, her heart beating double time.  “So, why?  The stopping, I mean?”

“Because…” Oliver swallowed and closed his eyes, his forehead still pressed to hers. “Because…Felicity, I’ve imagined kissing you many times.”

Could a heart go more than double time?  Was that safe?  Was Felicity going to have a coronary?  “You have?”

Oliver’s nod was slight, but clear.  “But there are fantasies and there are _plans_ , you understand?”

Felicity didn’t, not really.  “And you had fantasies, but not plans?”

“Oh no, I’ve had _both_.”  His eyes flickered to hers before closing again.  “I’ve had plans, all sorts of plans, very well thought out plans for _if_ there was ever the right time.  There were a lot of ifs as it turned out.”

“There’s never a _perfect_ time, Oliver.”

“I know.  I know that, but…”  Oliver’s face scrunched up as if he was in pain.  “There are a lot of _wrong_ times.  See fantasy kisses, they can be in the heat of passion.  They can be impulsive, but if you want something to last, if you want that first kiss to be a _beginning_ , then it has to be planned, done right.”

Did Oliver know he was melting her?  Felicity was turning into a puddle right there.

“So, you see, I couldn’t kiss you that night in the mansion, as much as I wanted to, because it would have been tainted.  I refused to kiss you when it was part of a battle strategy.  It had to be the right time.”

“A beginning?” And, dear God, there were the tears again.

“Yes.  There can never be anything casual between us.  I’ve known that almost from the beginning.  So, I can’t…there can be no heat of the moment kisses.  It would have to be…”  Oliver was breathing fast now, staring at her lips.  “Felicity is this…do you really want our first kiss to be under these circumstances?”

Felicity gulped.  Because even as Oliver was trying to talk them out of kissing, he had the most romantic soul. 

“I don’t really care where, or _what_ the circumstances of our first kiss is.” And, wow, wasn’t that something how she had just stated it like it was an inevitability?  “But I do care that it’s a beginning.  That’s the important part.  I don’t even think there needs to be a plan, just a promise—” 

Then Oliver’s lips were on hers.

At first, it was just a gentle suction.  Chaste, almost.  As if they were both too shocked or awed to move.  Felicity opened and closed her hands reflexively, not sure what to do with them.  Part of her never actually thought this moment would come.

But when Felicity realized Oliver wasn’t going to lead, but he wasn’t going to pull away either, and, dear God, she did _not_ want him to pull away, her hands found the back of his head yanked him closer. 

A moan escaped. Felicity thought it must have been from her.

That seemed to be the permission he needed.  Oliver began to devour her.  He cupped her head in his hands, his thumbs playing with her ears as his lips moved and moved and moved, caressing, sucking, becoming more insistent by the second.

And Felicity…she was a little overwhelmed.  Her fantasies had never gotten this…detailed.  Or real.  She concentrated on giving as good as she got, because it was kinda sorta a dream come true and so much better than she imagined and no _way_ she was going to let this opportunity pass when, really, all she wanted was for it to last forever.

Oliver’s shoulder was warm under her hand and his hair, barely long enough to hold onto, was so different in texture from the stubble against her cheeks.  It fascinated her.  His lower lip was just the most delicious thing that she had ever encountered and Felicity sunk her teeth into it without thought. 

Maybe that wasn’t the best idea, because Oliver froze.  But then, barely a second later, he groaned low, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest.  His hands bracketed Felicity’s head and tilted it to the side, pulling her even closer, forcing her lips apart, not that much force was necessary, and invaded her mouth with his tongue. 

If that wasn’t the most _heavenly_ thing Felicity had ever felt she didn’t know what was.  She sucked on his tongue, wanting to draw him ever deeper.  She didn’t want him to leave, not ever.  Oliver responded with that growly thing again and it did _things_ to her.  Amazing things.

His hands tangled in her hair as his tongue tangled with hers.  One hand slid over Felicity’s silk wrapped body and settled on her behind, lifting and dragging her up to her knees to meet Oliver’s torso full on, until they were meshed together from knee to mouth.

But the height difference soon became a problem, one Oliver quickly fixed by pulling her onto his lap.  Felicity’s breasts puckered to a point of almost pain as they rubbed against the silk that separated her nipples from his hard chest.  But it felt _so_ good.

Felicity’s hands caressed down the plains of Oliver’s back.  She was really having trouble comprehending that she was actually touching _him_.  Oliver.  She was allowed to touch the hard, sweaty beautiful back that had been the object of so many fantasies.  And in a _non-first aid_ way!

Smooth skin was interspersed with the irregularity of scars, but they were softer than they looked.  Felicity wanted to memorize how they felt.  Each and every one.  With her mouth.  Her pinkies found the swell of his ass and she realized that Oliver had finally lost the battle with his towel.

Felicity couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed before.  It certainly didn’t feel like there was more than a thin layer of silk separating her belly from his erection.  The heat from it radiated, making her nipples throb and her sex pulse.  Oliver’s tongue was so warm and talented as it dueled with her own and, oh God, where was this _going_? 

Felicity had wanted this kiss so badly.  Had fought for it.  And it was everything she had ever imagined.  Just wow.  Everything and so so much more.  But also, a runaway train.  And explosions.  The good, firework-y kind of explosions, sure.  But no easier to contain.

So, while there was no doubt in her mind that she wanted this… _still_ wanted this, Felicity wasn’t so sure about having sex with Oliver for the first time minutes after their first kiss, with no idea if their captors were watching them.

Because this was not a sweet, romantic, hey-I-kinda-have-feelings-for-my-friend-and-partner kiss.  This was a, holy-god-I-need-you-inside-me-right- _now_ kinda kiss. 

One Felicity really should try to slow down.  Soon.  Any minute now.

But Oliver, it seemed, had _no_ thoughts of putting the brakes on.  Because just as Felicity was coming to the realization that things were going a bit fast, he gripped the inside of one of her knees and pulled her leg around his hip. Then he was toppling her to the pillows, his cock settling into the hallow between her legs, his hips falling into a slow circular grind.

What was Felicity to do?  Without conscious thought, she was pulling Oliver _closer_ and sucking on his tongue _harder_ and trying to taste the back of his throat, while meeting every roll of his hips with her own and moaning like a porn star.  Which, she very well may be becoming.

But, Felicity didn’t care.  She didn’t care.  Dear God, she didn’t _care_.

Lying on the cushions with Oliver cradled between her legs, Felicity had never needed anything like she needed Oliver in that moment…

But then, distantly, Felicity thought she heard something.  She forced her eyes open…and she would have screamed if her mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied.

Before she knew what was happening Felicity was yanked away, causing her to let out a squeal.  Oliver, in the span of a few microseconds, had gotten both of them standing, and was acting as her human shield.

“So sorry to interrupt,” Amy sang, not sounding sorry at all.  “I see your bonding is going even better than expected.  But, unfortunately, it is time for another treatment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came very close to not being posted today on several occasions. I edited the last 6 pages with a fever so if they aren’t as clean as usual I apologize.
> 
> Thank you so much to **fairytalehearts, ireland1733,** and **dontyou-forgetaboutme89** for all their hard work and support. Fairytalehearts, in particular, for not allowing me to put up a subpar chapter, because I didn’t feel like rewriting anything. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. I love hearing everyone theories and thoughts. 
> 
> In particular, I’m interested in how people feel about the rewinds from the other point of view. I’ve been struggling with those and cut out three pages from the beginning of Felicity’s pov, because we felt it was dragging. The next chapter features a “rewind” of the kiss from Oliver’s pov that I think I’d like to keep. Anyway, I won’t be upset at all if you leave a comment saying the overlaps are boring and I should make them shorter. 
> 
> Finally, I want to do a little self-indulgent plug (there’s a better word for that but my flu-ish mind can’t think of it) for a fic I wrote a few months ago, _When Life Implodes_ given recent _Arrow_ events. It’s AU now, but shows a different (happier) way the William story-line could have ended. 
> 
> Thanks again, 
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/


	5. The Treatment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to thank everyone for the wonderful response to the last chapter. I feel awful that I haven’t gotten a chance to respond to any comments yet, but my assumption has always been (and, please, correct me if I’m wrong) that the readers would prefer I get the next chapter up on time than get timely responses, yes?

“Oliver, what has denying yourself what you want, denying _us_ , gotten you?”

Sucking in a breath, Oliver struggled to find a good answer for her.  Christ, he would settle for _any_ answer, even if it sucked at this point.  If he could come up with an answer maybe he could fight this, instead of just allowing himself to be seduced by Felicity’s soft caring hand on his cheek and her beautiful words. 

Felicity’s words would always be Oliver’s undoing.  He thought, perhaps, that it was her words that he fell in love with first.  Her brilliant, life changing words.  Awkward babbles and soul searing speeches.  Either way, they had a way of bringing light to the darkest corners of his mind.

Often, they were the only thing that could make Oliver believe there was a way out, a future.  And as selfish as it was, most days, he didn’t think that he could survive without them.

If he lost Felicity…to death or anger or his own stupidity…

So, what _had_ Oliver gained by denying himself?  Well, Felicity was still there next to him, wasn’t she?

But, Felicity being next to him also meant that she was _here_ , with Oliver, in this sterile white prison and, maybe, that was enough to make him reevaluate if that denial, if it was worth the price they both paid.

“I…I don’t know.”

And that admission was the beginning of the end of what was left Olivier’s self-control.  He could feel it melt away, felt powerless to stop it, like trying to stop a waterfall with his bare hands.  His fingers found Felicity’s hair, her long gorgeous curls that fell wildly around her face when it was usually so composed.  And then he was pulling her closer.

Felicity was so hard to resist.  But, he could.  Even now, he _could_ resist, because he had learned to deny himself anything, because there were so many things he didn’t deserve.  He had spent half his life taking, recklessly, selfishly.  Oliver was done with that now.  And, maybe, he didn’t deserve happiness, but…Felicity did.

Felicity, she deserved _everything_ and now that Oliver knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wanted him, that their not being together _hurt_ her.  The sacrifice seemed not only impossible, it seemed pointless.

Then, before he knew what he was doing, Oliver was rambling on about his confession at the mansion.  The trick that was never a trick, but _was_ a power play, a strategy.  That was so incredibly unfair, especially now that he knew how Felicity felt about him.

But, at the time, it had seemed like the only answer and if he had failed, everyone would have died, including Felicity, and she was the only one he trusted to get the cure into Slade, so…  But Oliver remembered that moment, the moment when he was staring into her eyes and telling her he loved her and wishing that the circumstances were far different. 

Oliver had wanted to kiss Felicity, wanted it desperately and had actually known on some level that it would have been the perfect finishing touch to the scene they were painting for Slade.  And it had been that thought that kept him from doing it and he so was grateful that it did.

Because if Oliver was ever going to allow himself to love her, love her the way he wanted to, then Felicity deserved so much more than _that_.  And she deserved more than _this,_ as well.   For their first kiss to be in a plush white prison while they were plied with drugs. 

Oliver had plans.  For if it was ever safe enough. If he had ever atoned enough.  If it was ever the right time to pursue this _thing_ between them.  _If_ …he knew how he wanted it to happen.  He knew what he wanted to do for her, everything he wanted to give her.  And this was _not_ it.

He tried to explain that to her, but Oliver wasn’t nearly as good with words as she was, but he tried and he hoped Felicity understood one tenth of what she meant to him, of what he wanted for her.

“There can never be anything casual between us.  I’ve known that almost from the beginning.”

He had. Oliver remembered looking at this adorable, quirky woman as she called him on his bullshit lies about a bullet ridden laptop and thinking, this wasn’t someone to trifle with, this wasn’t someone he could have a fling with, so he’d kept his distance.  Except he never could.  Not really.

“So, I can’t…there can be no heat of the moment kisses.  It would have to be…”  But Felicity was so near and Oliver knew that the drugs were affecting him, affecting _them_ , and, yet, the tight, but tenuous, hold he had on his self-control was one millisecond away from snapping.  “Felicity is this…do you really want our first kiss to be under these circumstances?”

But Felicity’s response to his question was soft and sultry, “I don’t really care where, or _what_ the circumstances of our first kiss is.”  Her eyes were hooded and her lips were moist and, God, she was the most kissable thing Oliver had ever seen.  “But I do care that it’s a beginning.  That’s the important part.  I don’t even think there needs to be a plan, just a promise—” 

Snap.

The wire was cut and Oliver surged forward, his lips landing on the ones that had haunted his dreams. 

They were perfect.  So perfect that he didn’t know what the hell to do next.

Oliver knew what he _wanted_ to do.  He wanted to thrust his tongue inside Felicity’s mouth, to throw her down on the pillows and grind into her like an animal.  He wanted to make her scream, scream loud enough to make his ears ring.  He wanted to lose himself so deep inside her that he would never find his way out again.  But none of that was right.

Felicity’s hands clutched at him, pulling him closer and Oliver realized that he had frozen like some pre-pubescent playing spin the bottle and Felicity deserved a whole lot better than this.

Oliver could fucking kiss.  It was one of his few talents.  If this was going to be their first kiss, then Oliver was going to give Felicity the best goddamn first kiss in the history of kisses.  Forget being naked in a white prison with crazy-ass scientists watching them.  It was nothing he couldn’t overcome.

Focus.  All Oliver needed to do was _focus_.

He started by savoring her.  Slow and steady.  It shouldn’t be difficult.  It _wasn’t_ difficult.  Oliver had spent countless hours thinking about Felicity’s lips in all their florescent shades.  Sucking and tasting them, exploring how every inch felt against his lips and tongue was almost academic.  If only they had classes like this when he had been in school, he wouldn’t be a drop-out.

Oliver wanted to do a study of her. Learn the contour of her face, Felicity’s lips and mouth, her neck and ears, every part of her.  The look, the feel, what was soft and what was…

Felicity moaned and sank her teeth into his lower lip and it was no longer enough to go slow.  Oliver tried.  He tried to be deliberate and unhurried.  He truly did.  He wanted it to be as sweet and romantic as any first kiss should be.  Wanted to make Felicity forget the circumstances, the drugs and cameras, and just show her everything he couldn’t put into in words, everything he _felt_ , everything he wasn’t ready to say.

Oliver opened her lips with his and it took all his self-control to not just force them open roughly, to simply expand his meticulous exploration to the inside of her mouth. 

There wasn’t a drug out there that could compare to Felicity’s lips.  And the way she was responding, the sounds and the passion and the way she kissed him back, Oliver was going to lose what little was left of his mind.

Then Felicity sucked on his tongue and Oliver lost it.  Another layer of restraint torn away.  Apparently, self-control was like an onion and there was soon to be nothing left of him.  And her tongue was tangling with his and she…

And Oliver was gone.  His mind went blank.  All he could do was _feel_.  He needed to be closer.  He needed to touch her everywhere.  Her shoulders, her neck, her back, her fantastic ass.  God, how he had dreamt of Felicity's ass.  He needed to feel her along the length of his body, pressed as close as possible.

The thought wasn’t even fully formed before he pulled Felicity up and against and around him and it still wasn’t enough.  Before he understood his own intentions, Oliver had pushed her into the pillows and his weight pressed her down into the silky cushions and he should be concerned with crushing her, but it seemed far more important to cement their bodies as close as possible. 

If he judged by her moans and the way Felicity clung to him, she wasn’t overly concerned with his weight anyway.  Which was good, because Oliver’s brain was short circuiting and the closeness was fucking fantastic and his cock, lord, his cock, _loved_ the cradle it found of damp slick silk over warm soft flesh.    

And that sheet.  That sheet was heaven and hell combined.  It felt fantastic on their overheated and over stimulated bodies, but he wanted her skin.  He wanted _all_ of her.  Oliver wanted to make Felicity feel better than she had ever felt in her life.  He wanted her to scream and cry out and contort from pleasure.  He wanted—

Felicity stiffened in his arms and Oliver froze, pulling back immediately.  Had he done something wrong?  Pushed her too far?  Hurt her in some way?  Was she changing—

Then Oliver heard steps behind him and he was up and pushing Felicity behind them.  Goddamn _bastards_.  Couldn’t they leave them the _fuck_ alone.

Felicity squealed at his sudden manhandling and in a back corner of his brain Oliver hoped he hadn’t hurt her, but really he was busy focusing on their child guard and her two body guards.  It was the same mute idiot from the lab.  And his twin.  Great.  Just fucking _great_. 

They were taller and thicker than Oliver, which was much more obvious now in their white t-shirts.  They looked strong, but Oliver was still pretty certain he could take them.  If they tried to touch Felicity…

Amy cleared her throat and said with that annoying smile, “I’m so sorry to interrupt.  I see your bonding is going even better than expected.  But, unfortunately, it is time for another treatment.”

The hell it was!  They needed to stay the fuck out of their ‘ _bonding.’_ And as for ‘ _treatment,’_ these assholes were only taking Felicity over his dead body.  “We’re not going anywhere,” Oliver growled, curling his arm back to make sure she was firmly behind him.

Clutching his shoulders, Felicity hissed a warning in his ear, “ _Oliver_ …” 

But what Felicity was warning him off of Oliver didn’t know and, quite frankly, didn’t care.  He drew himself up to his full height and squared his shoulders, readying for a fight.

Amy held up her hands in a pleading gesture, “Please, don’t worry…”

Which was a stupid ass thing to say, since they had stolen their ability to worry about anything and then put them in this ridiculous situation.

“…there are only a few treatments left,” Amy implored.  “The sooner they are done the sooner we can move to the next phase.”

Oliver didn’t want to know what the ‘next phase’ was, all he wanted was to get Felicity the hell out of there.  He knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, but the need to protect her was overriding his good sense.  He narrowed his eyes at the two goons and pointed at them, giving them his most menacing growl, “You touch her over my dead body.” 

There wasn’t a single response from the pair of idiots.  Not a blink or a grunt or a twitch.

But Felicity tried to pull Oliver backward.  “No!  _No_ dead bodies,” she burst out, struggling with her sheet and trying to get around him to face Amy.  Which he was absolutely _not_ allowing. 

But Felicity’s elbow in his ribs made Oliver rethink her determination and he reluctantly allowed her to face the girl, though he stepped forward and remained firmly between Felicity and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.  Maybe she could talk some sense into the child.

“Amy,” Felicity coaxed, “maybe if we knew more about these ‘treatments’ we’d feel more comfortable.”

For a moment, it looked like they were actually going to get some answers.  Amy opened her mouth and it looked like she was going to cooperate, but then she just shook her head sadly.  “I’m sorry, Miss Felicity, the doctors administer the treatments.  The science and technology is very advanced.”

Felicity made a soft frustrated noise that Oliver knew well, before trying again, “But what does it _entail_?”

Amy shrugged helplessly.  “I can’t tell you more than I already have.”

At that, the goons stepped forward in tandem and Oliver met them with a menacing step of his own and a growl.

“ _Please_ , Oliver,” Felicity whispered, curling her hand around his arm and turning back to the girl.  “Surely, there is _something_ you can tell us that will ease our minds.”

At this, Amy beams and nods enthusiastically.  Was it weird that it sent a chill down Oliver’s spine?

“When the treatments are finished, you will be so much more than you are now.  It will be _wonderful_.  You will feel marvelous and the whole world will be grateful!” Amy announced and Felicity made that frustrated noise again.

Well, Oliver had had enough.  This wasn’t going anywhere.  Diplomacy was done.

Oliver lunged at Idiot 1, landing a punch in his stomach and turning to nail a side-kick to idiot 2’s flank.  It was like hitting a stone wall.  Not unlike fighting one of Slade’s Mirakuru soldiers, which was an utterly horrific thought.

But, then, that sweet smell from the conference room drifted in and Oliver realized that they were trying to sedate them again.  Was that why his punches felt so weak?  His hand and foot didn’t hurt like they should have.  Instead, they felt numb.

Idiot 2 made a move toward Felicity and Oliver put everything had left into tackling the guy, roaring like a madman.  He knew he got the guy good, knew that he landed a solid elbow to his chin, but the Tweedle Dee didn’t even flinch, didn’t even bother to fight back. 

He just leaned down and threw Oliver over his shoulder as if he were no heavier than a small child.  Oliver tried to scream and threaten, but he wasn’t sure any sound came out.  His muscles had gone lax.  He’d lost almost all voluntary control over them.

Idiot 2 stepped forward and picked up Felicity bridal style from where she had collapsed among the pillows and Oliver found enough strength to get in another kick, but…

It didn’t matter… Oliver couldn’t… It was becoming hard to even keep his head up. 

Amy stepped forward and petted his cheek.  “Don’t worry, Mr. Oliver, Miss Felicity won’t be…” Oliver’s eyes were blurring, but he could swear the girl bit her lip.  “Your mate will be back with you soon.  It’s all for the best.”

Oliver wanted to scream.  He wanted to throttle her, child or no, but consciousness was fading fast.

But maybe the worst part was that it didn’t fade completely.

Awareness came and went for what felt like hours.  Oliver couldn’t move or speak, but sometimes he could feel and hear, and occasionally, he was even able to blink his eyes open and see.

It would have been the most terrifying experience of his life if he could feel fear.  The lack of it felt like a vast vacuum.

At one point, awareness struck when Oliver was in what he could only describe as coffin.  The lights in the confined space were so bright that he could see them through his closed eyelids.  

High pitched tones.  Mechanical whines.  Clanking.  Voices… but never clear enough for Oliver to make out the words

And needles.  So many needles.

Oliver swore that they placed a needle in every muscle in his body, his face included.  And all he could do through it all was pray.  Pray as he hadn’t done since he was a small boy that Felicity wasn’t experiencing this same thing.  That they weren’t piercing her with a hundred needles and if they were, please God, let her be fully sedated.  Don’t let her know.  _Please_.

When Oliver finally came fully awake again it was with a start.  Amy was leaning over him with what could have been smelling salts, but stronger.  A lot stronger. 

Oliver jerked upright.  He was on a stretcher in the entrance chamber to the white room with the mute bouncer and the little girl.  As he tried to get his bearings, Amy hummed cheerily and walked through the open door to their room. 

Oliver jumped up from the stretcher because whatever his next move was, it didn’t involve lying on that thing.  But before he could decide on his next step, or even try to grab something from the stretcher to cover himself, his jailer (Idiot #?) gave him a firm shove between the shoulder blades and Oliver stumbled into the room.

Spinning, he recovered quickly, but the door to the white room was closing fast and as much as Oliver wanted to rush it, he didn’t relish the idea of losing an arm and seeing if the freakish scientists here could make it grow back. 

Amy was arranging another array of, undoubtedly, roofied food on the small table.  She glanced back at Oliver with a small smile, completely unfazed by his nakedness as Oliver grabbed a pillow to try and hide.  She was only a little girl, goddamn it.

“I’ve laid out a light dinner.  Please, try to get Miss Felicity to eat something.  She’ll need her strength.  The last stages of the treatment can be very hard, especially for the female partner.”

For the first time, Amy’s smile almost looked sad. 

Oliver’s vision blurred red.  It was this new emotion he felt only around Felicity.  Not a simple fear or rage, but an overwhelming primal protectiveness that was more than either component alone.  He wondered, in that moment, that if it meant protecting Felicity he could hurt this little girl.  Clenching his fists, Oliver held himself rigid as he growled, “Where is she?”

Amy looked more sympathetic than scared as she gestured to the bed.

Cursing himself for not asking earlier, Oliver rushed to her, dropping the pillow and jumping over the sectional with surprising ease to get there.  “Felicity?”

She looked incredibly small.  Curled into a tight ball on the bed and covered almost entirely by the white comforter, she was easy to miss.  But as he crouched down next to her, Oliver could make out Felicity’s tear stained face.

His growl transformed into as primal roar from deep inside his chest.  Oliver gritted his teeth to keep the full volume from emerging and frightening Felicity.  He turned to Amy to demand…but she was already gone.  At least, _she_ wasn’t an idiot.

The need to punch something, to rip something, _someone_ to threads was intense and Oliver would have given into it if Felicity didn’t whisper, “Oliver?”

His heart clenched and the protectiveness morphed into something softer.   Oliver climbed onto the bed and leaned close.  “Hey.  I’m here.  I’m here.  They’re not going to hurt you anymore.  I’m here.”

Felicity let out a heart-wrenching sob and reached for him. 

Oliver slipped his arms under her back and legs and lifted her onto his lap.  Felicity came eagerly, though she quickly curled back into a ball against his chest, her arms twinned around his neck, her face buried in his throat as she sobbed.

It didn’t stop.  And every sob caused a painful reverberation throughout Oliver’s body.  He stroked Felicity’s back, feeling helpless, almost worthless.  He hadn’t been able to protect her and now he couldn’t even comfort her properly.  He tried to wipe her tears, but the constant flow made it pointless.  So, instead, he just pulled her as close as he could, rubbing any part of her body he could reach, arms, back, thighs, trying to still her trembling.

They were still naked, except for the loosely draped comforter, but Oliver couldn’t bring himself to care.  There was no embarrassment or awkwardness.  No modesty.  And, at the moment, no desire.  Lust was the last thing on his mind.

Oliver felt only the need to shield and protect.  And love.  The love he felt in that moment, it was unlike anything he had ever felt before.  He could drown in it.  Eventually, he had to let it out just so that he could breathe.

“Shh, baby,” Oliver whispered, only realizing when his voice came out hoarse that he was near to tears himself.  “It’s ok.  I won’t let anyone else hurt you.  I won’t let them take you again.  I promise—”

Felicity’s finger on his lips stopped the cascade of promises.  “Don’t, Oliver,” she murmured, sniffling and running a fist over her eyes and across her cheeks.  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Felicity—”

“You’ll just hate yourself when you fail and it will just be one more thing they did to us.” Felicity’s eyes were luminous and bright in the fading light and her tone was brave despite the devastation on her face.

Oliver lost the battle with his own tears as he shook his head through her words.  “I will,” he swore.  “I will protect you.  I _have_ to—”

“ _Try_ ,” Felicity finished for him, her voice surprisingly strong given how fragile she felt in his arms.  “You have to _try_.  That’s all you can do. I know you will do everything you can, but…” her lip trembled and another sob escaped before she could stop it.  “…and _eventually_ you’ll succeed.  I know it.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Oliver nodded.  Her faith was a humbling responsibility.  “I _will_ get you out of here.”  It was a fierce and quiet vow said directly into Felicity’s ear, meant only for her.

“ _Us_ ,” Felicity corrected, just as fiercely.  “I’m not leaving without you.”

Oliver blew out a breath as an even stronger rush of love washed through him and he pulled Felicity close, kissing the top of her head.  “I won’t let them take you again.”

“You can’t stop them.” Felicity shook her head and curled into him again, burrowing into his chest.  “They’ll take us both again and you… _we_ can’t stop them.  Not until we come up with a plan.  Or something.”

Oliver gritted his teeth, shaking his head against the truth of her words.  It went against every instinct he had.  But they were trapped.  Like he had been trapped on Lian Yu, and the tankard, and Hong Kong.  With no way out and no way home.  Somehow, this time, because of Felicity, the need to escape was so much stronger.

“It’s ok,” Felicity whispered, her hand now next to her face on Oliver’s chest, rubbing soothing circles.  When did she switch to comforting him?

Oliver gave them both a moment before asking the question that was burning in his gut, “What did they do to you?”

Felicity curled further into herself, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as the tears started to flow again.  She turned her head into his shoulder, away from his gaze.

Oliver felt like an ass for making Felicity cry again, but, still, he _needed_ to know.  He held her as carefully as he knew how and took a deep breath whispering, “Needles?” 

He felt himself stiffen even before he said it and had to concentrate on not tightening his hold on her to keep from hurting her.  Felicity’s only response was a nod against Oliver’s chest and another sniffle.

Closing his eyes and swallowing, Oliver braced himself and asked, “Does it still hurt?”

Felicity shook her head, murmuring, “It didn’t really hurt much at all, but…” Her voice cracked. “But I wasn’t asleep.  Not fully.  Not for all of it.”

“Shhh.  I know.  I know…”  He should have known. No one ever listened to Oliver’s prayers.  No one that cared anyway.  “I’m going to kill them,” was his whispered vow.

That, finally, had Felicity sitting up and wiping her cheeks.  Meeting Oliver’s eyes, she shook her head and answered with vehemence, “No.  Not unless you have absolutely no choice, you understand?”

Oliver nodded, his hands clenching spasmodically around her, willing to do anything Felicity asked of him.

“And we won’t hurt Amy.  Promise me.”

“I won’t.  I _wouldn’t_ ,” Oliver swore automatically, even though it hadn’t been long since he’d had the opposite thought.  But now, with Felicity looking at him with such faith, he knew it was true.  He would never hurt a little girl.

Felicity seemed to deflate and even managed a small smile.  “I know.”  She settled back down, burrowing back into his chest, pulling the comforter around both of them.  She didn’t seem at all concerned about the amount of skin that rested against his.  “I know you wouldn’t, but I think, sometimes, you just need to be reminded.”

Just when he thought he never would again, Oliver chuckled, a real smile spreading across his face.  It was soothing to have Felicity in his arms like this, the skin to skin contact surprisingly calming…which if anyone would have told him a week ago that what he’d feel with a naked Felicity in his arms was _calm_ , he’d have laughed his ass off.

Felicity yawned, her eyes fluttering shut, her tears having finally dried.  Thank God.

Oliver remembered what Amy said about keeping up their strength and looked over at the food she’d laid out.  Hell no!  Not going to happen.  But between the crying and everything else, the last thing Felicity needed was to become dehydrated.

“Let me get you some water, then we can rest,” Oliver murmured, stroking her hair with long, even caresses.

But Felicity shook her head, her nose pressed against his chest, her eyes still closed.

“Felicity, after all…”  It was a bad idea to reference a girl’s crying, wasn’t it?  “You need to drink something.”

“I want juice.”

Oliver stiffened.  Every part of him rejected the idea of giving Felicity that…that _poison_ again.  “No.  Just, no.”

“I want the _juice_ ,” Felicity insisted, opening her eyes and looking up at him.  “Maybe it will help…with all these _feelings_.”  She took a shaky breath and it just about broke Oliver’s heart.  “I just want to sleep.”

There was no way Oliver could deny her, even if his instincts were screaming against it.    He swallowed.  “Ok.  Ok.”  He helped Felicity lie back down, carefully draping the sheet over her naked form, before going to the tray Amy had laid out.

There was an array of fruits and cheeses, which Oliver ignored.  Though, he admitted to himself that they would be harder to drug then the food they were given earlier today.  The juice that was served had a light purple tinge and resembled the one that Oliver had in the limo.

He had a strong mental image of hurling it across the room, but as satisfying as the fantasy was, Oliver knew it would accomplish nothing, so he poured a glass instead.  Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to take a sip.  As much as he wanted to stay clear-headed, the need to test everything that Felicity ate and drank was just too great to resist.

As far as Oliver could tell, it was the same juice he had in the limo…blueberry, pomegranate something.  He took his time bringing it to the bed, making sure he had no weird reactions.

By the time he got there, Felicity was shaking and silently weeping again. 

“Hey, hey,” Oliver quickly set the juice on the end table and reached for her, brushing away the new tears.  “What happened?”

Felicity just shook her head and Oliver might not be able to feel panic, but he certainly was able to feel helpless.  What had they _done_ to her?  This was not Felicity.  She was the strongest person he knew. 

And Oliver really didn’t want to give her this juice.  “Are you sure you want—?”

Nodding, Felicity held Oliver’s hand to her cheek and sighed, calming visibly.  “Yeah, I’m ok.”  She sighed and even attempted a smile.  The tears made her cheeks red and her eyes glassy.  She was more beautiful than anyone had the right to be. 

“Can you…?”  Felicity asked, reaching for the juice.

Again, Oliver had to fight the urge to deny her the juice, but instead he helped Felicity sit, neither of them paying any attention to their nudity.  It just didn’t seem to matter.  She was still trembling and Oliver had to help her wrap her hands around the glass and steady it as she drank so it wouldn’t splash all over them.

Slowly, carefully, Felicity drank the entire glass, before falling back onto the pillows as if the last of her energy had been drained.  She did manage to reach out for him, her eyes half-closed. 

“Don’t go.”

“Not going anywhere.  Promise.”

Apparently, that was reassurance enough, because Felicity relaxed back with a nod and closed her eyes, though she kept one hand on his thigh, maintaining that skin to skin contact.  Oliver shoved the offending glass away and lifted the covers to slide in next to her, pulling her into his embrace. 

Felicity rolled into him as if she had done it a hundred times before, her head laying on Oliver’s chest and her legs tangling with his.  With a soft sigh, she rubbed her cheek against his chest and molded herself to him.

They were full length naked against one another now, yet Oliver got no enjoyment…no, that wasn’t right.  The simple pleasure of knowing it comforted Felicity, the skin to skin, it soothed and calmed the savage beast inside him. 

But the lust that ran so rampant only a few hours before lie dormant and Oliver was grateful for that.  It was the last thing Felicity needed after everything she had been through.

It wasn’t long before Felicity drifted off.  Oliver lie there, keeping guard, alert and vigilant, going over everything that had happened, every clue.  He factored in both of their strengths and weaknesses, running any and all escape scenarios through his mind, no matter how fantastical.

The sun faded and set and Oliver never moved from his position against her.  He stayed alert through the dark night, until the sun rose again and light filled the room.

And, still, Oliver had not one viable plan for escape.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who weighed in on the overlaps in storytelling. I really appreciate the critic and support. There were people on both sides. In the end, I’ve decided to try to minimize the overlap as much as I can without compromising my style or the telling of the full story (emotionally as well as plotwise). 
> 
> Believe it or not, the beginning of this chapter could easily have been 4 pages longer. So, see, restraint. I’m trying. 
> 
> There is no rewind into chapter six. I don’t think I could handle it, actually, since the beginning of six is rather angsty and has been difficult to write emotionally. (So, I guess that’s a warning). Though, the end of Chapter Six feeds into Seven and if Seven doesn’t turn out to be amazing then I just give up. Lol. But seriously, Seven has everything I’m trying to do with this story. If it doesn’t turn out great, I’m going to cry. So, yeah, I’m a little nervous about it. 
> 
> Enough rambling. Thank you to my lovely Betas: **fairytalehearts, ireland1733,** and **dontyou-forgetaboutme89.** I couldn’t do it without you (send them good luck for these upcoming chapters). 
> 
> And, please, keep the love coming, it keeps me motivated and I’m going to need a ton of motivation to get Chapter Seven finished and up before March 23. 
> 
> Thanks, 
> 
> Emmy


	6. The Beginning and the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning:** Multiple medical procedures performed without consent (not graphic) and significant Depressive themes. Also, in no way do I condone a ten-year-old girl being in these situations. It is _not_ ok.
> 
> If you would like to ask me any questions about this, please feel free to message me at http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/

It had been nine days.

Nine days of living in the White Room, a place that masqueraded as heaven, but was a hell as surely as the roar of everlasting fires and rivers of lava, as boulders and endless climbs.

In nine days, they had established a routine.  Felicity would wake to the bright sunlight glinting off the freshly cleaned white…everything.  Sometimes, Oliver was next to her, but more often he was already up, at the window staring at the sunrise as if it would give him the answers they needed, as if staring at the world outside this room could somehow will them there.

Often, when Felicity woke, there was already a lavish meal set out and there would be hours of just her and Oliver.  To do…nothing, mostly. 

Which should have been either mind numbingly boring or incredibly exciting, given the naked Oliver and no distractions thing.  But, instead, it was neither.  Felicity found she just didn’t have the energy.  So, they would just sit close and talk, whispering in each other’s ears.

Then _they_ would come _,_ Amy and the twins, and take Oliver and Felicity for their _treatments_.

Felicity would call it torture, but the point of torture was to cause pain.  The point of the pain was to get information or to get cooperation or revenge.  But the pain was clearly the intention.  The entire point of the exercise. 

And Felicity knew that any pain from the treatments was _unintentional_.  The reason for them was something far more nefarious, something much worse than simple physical pain.

Treatments consisted of brief swells of consciousness that Felicity despised, mixed with periods of blissful emptiness.  She loved those empty periods.  She wished all of it could be empty and blank.  All she wanted was to sleep and sleep and sleep.  She didn’t want to wake up unless it could be at home, in her own bed.

She was weak.  Felicity had thought her year and half with Oliver had taught her to be strong. But now, when she needed that strength the most, she crumbled.  If she were brave enough, tough enough, she would fight to stay awake.  She would take any chance she could to gain information about what their captors were doing.  

The way she knew Oliver was.  Felicity would look at those moments of consciousness as a chance to find out something, _anything_ that could aid in their escape.

But Felicity wasn’t strong.  So she prayed for nothingness.   

Then the treatments were over and instead off waking up in her comfortable, brightly colored room in Starling, Felicity woke to twilight setting on the bleak white blankness of their prison, each evening feeling more depressed and hopeless than the night before. 

Sometimes, Felicity remembered the daydreams she used to have of sharing a room, and a bed, with Oliver, and wondered if this twisted nightmare was punishment for daring to dream.

Her thoughts occasionally took a very dark turn.  There were times where Felicity felt bouts of depression unlike anything she had ever felt before.  And the drugs did nothing to help.  No matter how much juice she drank, the sadness remained.

Over the last nine days, Felicity had figured out a lot about how the drugs controlled her emotions.  Actually, it was just about the only thing she had figured out.

Felicity spent her mornings like this, sitting on the floor leaning against the window, her cheek pressed against the cool glass, staring out at the expanse of color and life that was denied them.    Draped in the sheet that had become a comfort to her, since it was denied to her during the dreaded treatments, Felicity categorized in a clinical and detached manner exactly what she could and could not feel.

The physical aspects of fear were something the drugs took away completely.  The panic, the racing heart, the shortness of breath, the hard knot in her stomach…all gone.  The thoughts could come, but they never raced out of control. 

Felicity’s darkest fears would manifest as a mere flicker of anxiety and what might be considered worried thoughts.  But they were completely intelligent, logical and controlled.  Always.

Anger was the same.  Occasionally, when Felicity hadn’t eaten or drank for a while she would start to feel a flicker.  But never intense.  Never out of control.  Never _physical_.  Always logical.   

This was not to be confused with protectiveness or even with passion, both of which were not even a little bit diminished.  They were, perhaps, even magnified.  Both were felt intensely.  Passion was, also, not to be confused with lust, which, though it was overwhelming the first day they were awake had slowly become overwhelmed by other, more damaging, emotions.

At first, Felicity thought that their abductors had taken away all their negative emotions, but it was clear after their first treatment, the first one she remembered anyway, that she could feel sad.  And each day it got worse until she was plagued with episodes of hopelessness and despair that was all-consuming, pushing out all other emotions.

At these times, Felicity found it difficult to even fantasize about going home.  All she wanted to do was escape the only way she knew how.  To sleep.  And she could feel herself slipping deeper into an episode the longer she sat there.

“You should shower.”  

Felicity rolled her head along the window pane to look over at Oliver.  He was standing just past the bathroom curtain, toweling off from his own shower.  Water was still clinging to his skin and his body was as beautiful as it always was, now as hairless as hers.  Apparently, body hair did not factor into whatever insane plan their captors had for them.

Oliver didn’t bother to cover himself.  Over the past week, modesty had faded and slipped away, seemingly pointless in the face of their struggles.  Particularly since desire seemed to be less of an issue.  That was depressing in of itself.

“What are you saying?” Felicity attempted to joke, even managing a small smile, though it took effort.

Felicity wasn’t insulted by Oliver calling her out on her hygiene or lack thereof.  Just like she wasn’t particularly insulted by his body’s lack of response to her nudity.  Whether the apathy was from the depression or the drugs, she didn’t know.

There _was_ a distant part of her that was disappointed, who missed that first day, that kiss.  Back when the drugs had led to a loss of inhibitions and happiness and hope, not the complete opposite.  But, luckily, Felicity’s sluggish mind had no desire to jump on the hamster wheel of analyzing the course of Oliver’s desire for her and what that might mean.

Besides, sex and pleasure, even romance, was the very last thing on Felicity’s mind.  How could she blame Oliver for feeling the same?  And, even if she could feel anger, she wouldn’t waste it on Oliver.  She couldn’t survive this without him.  On a hundred different levels. 

In the last nine days, Oliver had become her rock.  Well, he was her rock before, but now he was her… _everything_.  Despite the hopelessness and despair, Felicity had never felt so completely connected to another human being.  It went so much deeper than desire, deeper than any romantic love she had ever felt.

Oliver gave her a soft smile and it felt almost like caress, soothing Felicity’s frayed nerves.  “I’m _saying_ that you might feel better if you took a shower.”  His smile turned teasing.  “I’ll even help if you’d like.” 

But if Oliver were trying for a leer, he failed miserably.  All Felicity could see in his eyes was concern.  Empathy.  And something deeper that she didn’t have the strength to analyze.

Felicity turned her eyes back to the beautiful expanse of beach that they never got to step foot on.  “I’ll shower after.”  She always had the urge to wash after a treatment.

“You’ll be too tired, _after_ ,” Oliver reminded her gently, which was true enough.

He walked toward her, carelessly throwing the towel on the floor.  Their captors always cleaned thoroughly while they were gone, why bother giving them the courtesy of being cleanly?

Oliver came up behind her and lifted the sheet out of the way, before settling on the floor and embracing Felicity from behind, chest to back, skin to skin, his smooth legs bracketing hers.  Felicity had left the sheet loosely draped for this very purpose, having learned that it was in their best interest for them to have easy access to each other’s bodies.

Felicity sighed and melted back into him.  The skin on skin immediately started to make her feel better.  They both knew that it would and she could feel Oliver’s muscles start to unwind as well.  The weird roofie juice had nothing on Oliver’s skin.

Pulling his arms around her waist, Felicity laced their fingers and pressing their arms together to maximize contact.  As they both breathed, the heavy weight of depression started to lift enough for her to start to think more clearly.

The only thing that made her feel better these days was Oliver’s touch.  The effect was so heady that Felicity wondered if there was something _they_ were doing to them, something to do with the treatments, that would make it so.  But that was ridiculous.  It was scientifically absurd.  How could something like that even happen?

No, clearly the effect was due to Felicity being so Goddamn in love with Oliver.  It had grown even more intense with their forced solitude.  She had never been in love like _this_ before.  And it didn’t even seem to matter whether he felt the same. 

Leaning back against his shoulder, Felicity looked up into Oliver’s eyes and was able to give him a real smile this time and tease, “So, do I smell?”

Oliver wrinkled his nose, then preceded to press it into Felicity’s neck, making a show of sniffing her neck from ear and to collar bone.  His breath tickled and miraculously a giggle emerged. 

“A little musky,” Oliver murmured, directly into her ear.

Felicity chuckled even as she shivered at the sensation.  “Sucks for you,” she returned, while snuggling back into him and pulling Oliver’s arms even more securely around her, relief overcoming her as the spiral to depression dissipated.

She could feel Oliver’s smile against her skin.  “Nah, it’s a nice musk.”  He leaned his chin on Felicity’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to the pulse, before pressing his nose to the same spot and resting it there. 

A rush of contentment washed through her, flushing away another layer of misery.  It allowed Felicity to say, “I’ll make you a deal.  If you eat, I’ll shower.”

There was a pause and Felicity felt Oliver’s shoulders tightened against her back. “I eat,” he protested.

“You eat fruit and drink water.”  Felicity traced a very visible vein on his forearm.  “You’re losing weight.”

Taking a deep breath, Oliver lowered his voice and whispered into her ear, “I try everything that comes into this room.”

Felicity couldn’t resist rolling her eyes, even if he couldn’t see.  “Ah, yes, your taste testing tic.  Those nibbles wouldn’t be enough to feed a child, never mind a man your size.”

Apparently, he didn’t have come back for that, because Oliver just sighed and buried his eyes in her neck.  It was several minutes before he answered.  “I keep thinking that if my system gets clear enough from the drugs, I’ll be able to think of a way out of here.”

She knew that.  Of course, Felicity knew that.  Had realized what Oliver was doing.  That this was the only way he had of exerting control, of fighting _them_.  She stroked his arm with her fingertips, wondering, absently, if the hairless skin made it feel different as she searched for what to say.

Finally, Felicity settled on asking, “And how is that working out for you?” as quietly and gently as she could.

He made a low grunt of frustration and his arms and legs tightened around her.  This was him taking comfort from her and Felicity was only too happy to give it.  She hoped he found the same calm from the skin contact as she did.  Oliver buried his face in her unwashed hair, which should have been gross, but whatever they were doing to them, Felicity’s hair never seemed to get dirty or greasy or…anything.

Oliver’s non-answer was exactly what Felicity had expected.  Juice or no juice.  Anxiety or no anxiety.  This place was Fort Knox.  No way in and no way out.  They had _tried_ to escape, of course.  Well, maybe that was overstating it a bit.  They had pursued avenues that _may_ have led to escape.  Even the ridiculous. 

They attempted to pry opened the vents in the middle of the night.  Hell, Oliver had gone so far as to try to remove wall panels with the hope of finding something, _anything_ electrical for Felicity to get her hands on.  But nothing had so much as budged, even with the jagged pieces of plastic water pitcher Oliver had somehow managed to break.

Oliver had attacked the Brians (they still hadn’t been given a name for the twin and Felicity had long since stopped caring) nine different ways for nine different days.  The guards never seemed the least bit fazed by Oliver’s efforts.  They didn’t even fight back, except to restrain Oliver until the pink gas could work its evil magic.

Felicity knew that Oliver tried desperately to stay awake during the treatments in order to gain some knowledge or insight that they might find useful, proving just how much stronger he was than her, because all she wanted to do was be unconscious.  After they came back, Oliver would whisper in her ear everything he remembered, hoping they could come up with something helpful.  

They never did.  Their captors remained unfazed.  The gas came like clockwork.   Amy smiled.  The Brians stood sentry until it was time for Oliver and Felicity to be hauled off like sacks of potatoes.   And on and on the cycle went.  They didn’t even know if there was an end.

Finally, Oliver whispered, so quietly Felicity would never have heard if his lips weren’t against her ear, “I did come up with an idea.”

Felicity tensed, because so far most of Oliver’s ideas were ones that were very likely to get him beaten to a pulp by the Brians.

“Does it involve you using the food tray as a shield Captain America style?” Felicity asked just as quietly, saying it as a joke, even as she prayed that wasn’t actually his plan. 

Oliver puffed out a soft laugh before licking his lips.  Felicity knew this because she could feel it against the skin of her shoulder, even if she couldn’t see it.  He lowered his voice even further, whispering, “I was thinking maybe we should cooperate.”

That made Felicity sit up and turn her upper body so she could meet Oliver’s eyes.  Because _that_ , she did _not_ expect.  Blue eyes met blue.  “Are you serious?” 

“Fighting is getting us nowhere,” Oliver admitted.  “Maybe if they thought we …”

“Drank the Kool-Aid?”

Oliver smiled and looked at her with soft eyes.  When he looked at her like that, Felicity almost believed that he loved her too.  Almost believed the fantasy he had created at the mansion.

“Then they might relax,” Oliver murmured.  “Answer more questions.  Give us more privileges.”

Felicity settled her head back against Oliver’s chest to think about that one. It wasn’t a _terrible_ idea.  As far as _only_ ideas went, they’d had worse ones. 

“I don’t know,” Felicity teased as she started to imagine it. “You would have to be ‘charming Ollie.’  And you know that guy skives me out.” 

That got her a genuine laugh and it was perhaps the first time in days that Oliver had fully allowed himself to and it made her positively smug.  Actually, Felicity could see him charming little Amy quite easily if he tried.  And she didn’t think he was even capable of pulling off an imitation of Ollie anymore, even if it was an entertaining thought.

Oliver cleared his throat in what was clearly one of his nervous gestures.  Felicity suspected that his anxiety was high now that he was refusing to eat, though he flat out refused to admit to it.  Stupid man. 

“Actually,” Oliver’s voice was now furthered muffled by her hair, “you know how they keep calling us mates?”

So, Oliver had noticed that too, huh?  It was an often used phrase by their mini-jailer, one that simultaneously creeped Felicity out and gave her a warm fuzzy feeling low in her belly.  And everywhere else, really.

Nodding was the only response Felicity could manage.  It seemed she could neither find her voice nor look at him in that moment.

“Well, Amy keeps telling me to take care of you.  Afterwards.  To take care of my mate.”  Oliver’s breath huffed over her nape.  “I thought maybe we could use that.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow, then realized that Oliver probably couldn’t see the gesture, so she turned her head so he could, but it didn’t lead to a smile as she hoped he would.  He was too busy worrying his bottom lip.

“I thought, maybe, instead of attacking two brick walls again, I could… _would_ insist going with you.  As my mate.”  Oliver rested his chin on her shoulder again, but this time his eyes were glued to Felicity’s knee.

Hearing Oliver use the phrase “my mate,” without any sense of irony did strange things to Felicity’s insides.  Actually, they were the same things that hearing him say “I love you” had done.  The real irony here was that both times were a trick.  At least this time, she knew it ahead of time.

“You think they would?” Felicity asked, trying to keep herself from falling any further down that particular rabbit hole.  “Let us stay together?”  Honestly, after the initial burst of relief at the idea, she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

Oliver nodded.  “If I use their own logic against them, then, yes, I think they might.  I can’t protect _my mate_ if they separate us and they want me to protect… _you_.  So…yeah.”

Fool proof.  Riiight.  Well, Felicity was far from certain that Amy and the Powers That Be would agree to this, but what really caught her attention was the way Oliver said it, the emotion in his voice. 

Felicity sat up and shifted so that she could turn around, now kneeing between his bent legs, facing him.  She struggled to keep the sheet at least loosely draped around her.  She wasn’t quite as comfortable with full frontal nudity as he was.  Hers that was.  She was very comfortable with his nudity.  Only thing to cheer her up some days.

But when she searched Oliver’s face, what she saw took her breath away, because the expression on his face it was just so _real_.  It was one of those rare moments where Felicity felt like she was seeing raw honest emotion on Oliver’s face.

Though, Felicity had felt this way in the mansion and look how that turned out.  Maybe she was seeing what she wanted to see, but…

Then Felicity realized.  This wasn’t about her and Oliver making _them_ believe that they were cooperating to gain information.  Not at all.  Not to Oliver anyway.  It was about him protecting her.  Pure and simple.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Felicity leaned forward and whispered, “If you stay with me, during…Oliver are you thinking you will be able to stop the treatments?”  Because that sounded crazier than the using the food tray as a Captain American shield plan. 

Oliver found a spot over Felicity’s shoulder to fixate on as he gulped.  “No, but…it would…it would be better for you, _easier_ if I were there.  Wouldn’t it?”  His hands fell to her hips and he pulled her closer.

Felicity nodded her understanding and hoped he didn’t take that as agreement to the plan.  They had realized days ago how much _easier_ everything was when they were together.  She certainly felt great comfort in his presence and felt she was braver and even, possibly, clearer-headed when Oliver was there, but that wasn’t…

“Oliver…I don’t think…Could you really watch them do that to me?”

When his eyes snapped back to hers, Felicity caught a flash of intensity in his gaze that may have been anger.  Then, as if to confirm her suspicions, Oliver growled, “If it helps you, I could.”

Felicity actually, really, _seriously_ doubted that.  As far as she could figure, every scenario she could imagine led to Oliver in a murderous rage.  And he didn’t even know the worst of it.

Her eyes skittered away from his and Felicity let herself fall forward until her forehead rested against his chest.  Oliver’s arms closed around her and pulled her closer, resting his chin on top of her head.  He didn’t know…

There was this thing that Felicity hadn’t wanted to tell him.  The part where the treatments… Oliver thought that the treatments bothered her so much because of the needles and…Felicity really hadn’t wanted to tell him about the other tests, hadn’t want him to _know_ about them.  The ones that only she received. 

The ones with the probes and the stirrups and the excess interest in certain parts of her body, parts Felicity really wanted any and all evil scientists to stay especially _far_ away from.  It wasn’t that it didn’t feel clinical when it happened.  It did, but that didn’t help the complete sense of defilement, the horrific sense of violation that haunted her nightmares.

But the last thing Felicity wanted was to tell Oliver about it.  She didn’t want to _talk_ about it even.  To relive it.  Didn’t want him to look at her with pity, but more than that… she could handle all _that_.  If it was just about _her_ , she’d force herself to tell him.

But Felicity didn’t want to give Oliver the burden of knowing.  The mere idea filled her with dread.  She knew he was going to take it worse than she was, that it could very well send him spiraling over the edge.

But, on the other hand, it was important information.  A huge clue as to what these lunatics were after.  One that Felicity really didn’t want to contemplate and had made every effort to avoid thinking about.  Hence, blessed sleep.

Because when she thought about it, Felicity started to imagine Dana Scully in the X-Files and horrible experiments that left her infertile, until they didn’t and she had a baby with Alien DNA and…that probably wasn’t what was happening here, but it was seriously _terrifyingly_ close.

Felicity had never given much thought to having children.  She always figured that was pretty standard for people her age from broken homes like hers.  Not to mention her history of poor relationships.  But the idea of someone messing with her ability to have kid, it made her feel hollow inside.

But the thing was, Felicity’s gut told her this was the opposite.  That they _wanted_ her to get pregnant.  And she sure the _hell_ hoped they wanted her to get pregnant with Oliver’s baby, because she sure the hell hated the idea that it was anyone or _anything_ else’s. 

Even though the idea of having a baby with Oliver was strangely _not_ horrible, there was the fact that she was too young and so not prepared and they weren’t even in a relationship and this was very, very, _very_ much _not_ their choice.  But worse than that, Felicity had a sinking sense that what they wanted her to get pregnant with was not a _normal_ baby.  That they wanted a…super baby of some sort.

And God knew, those attempts usually ended horribly.  Being experimented on was abhorrent.  But having them experiment on a baby… _their_ baby...

Ok.  See?  This was why Felicity tried really hard not to think about it.  And talking about it was going to a hundred times worse.  She just couldn’t see Oliver taking this as rationally as she was.  On like a _thousand_ levels.

But was it fair for him not to know?  Didn’t they need to be prepared?  And if, by some miracle, Oliver convinced Amy to let them stay together, then he would find out on his own.  And Felicity really couldn’t allow that to happen.  It had to come from her.

“Oliver?” Felicity asked in a small voice.

Felicity’s eyes were closed.  Though that was mostly because in this position, if her eyes were open she would be staring at Oliver’s junk and that would just be weird and then she’d probably start thinking inappropriate thoughts about how smooth he was down there and wondering what he had looked like before…

Well, Felicity must be feeling better if she were even thinking about thinking about having inappropriate thoughts.  Either that or her brain was seriously good at procrastinating.  Procrastinating being a euphemism for avoiding.

“Yes?” Oliver prompted after a few minutes. 

Swallowing, Felicity gathered her courage.  “There may be something that I’ve been leaving out.  About my treatments.  About what I remember, I mean.”

Felicity actually felt her forehead jump, the muscles below them tensed so quickly.  She opened her eyes to see Oliver’s abs come into rigid definition and forced herself to lift her head and look into his eyes.

“What?” Oliver gritted out, and Felicity knew he wasn’t angry at her.  Though, he was certainly angry, which validated her theory that the emotional control drugs were in the food and, wow, if he was already this mad they were in trouble. 

Trepidation came off Oliver in waves.  He caught Felicity’s chin and tightened his other arm around her waist, effectively preventing any chance of a quick escape. 

“I…um…”  She had to tell him now, right?  Should she back out?  Could she back out?  Taking a deep breath, Felicity made herself keep talking, “They seemed…they seemed awfully interested in my…reproductive system.”

Oh God. Dear God, this wasn’t going to go well.

Oliver didn’t disappoint.  Just when Felicity thought he couldn’t get any more tense, every muscle in his body coiled, as if he were readying himself for attack.  His breath caught and his eyes…well, if they could have turned red, they would have. 

“ _What_!” It came out in a roar that would have made Malcolm Merlyn pee his pants.  Frack.

Felicity bit her lip.  Ok, there had to be a way to cushion this.

“ _Felicity_ …” Her name was a growl and Oliver forcibly tilted her face up to meet his eyes, though, incredibly, his hands were so _so_ gentle.  His voice and his muscles and his eyes were hard but he held her like she was made of delicate porcelain.  “Repeat.  That.  Please.”  It was as if his voice modulator had gotten stuck in the ‘on’ position. 

Oliver was hoping that he’d misheard her.  She knew he was.  Maybe Felicity should capitalize on that assumption—

“ _Felicity_ …”

Crap.  Oliver _had_ to know.  There was no choice. “They seem…” Felicity blew out a breath and saw impatience fly across his features.  “They are really interested in my reproductive…organs.” 

Felicity said the last part in a rush and he might not have understood and if he didn’t maybe she should take that as a sign, that he didn’t _need_ to know.  But his eyes did that burning thing again, that intense narrowing thing with the jaw clenching and the rage…and Oliver knew _exactly_ what she was hinting at. 

“What did they _do_ to you?” Oliver’s voice shook despite the ferocity of it.

Felicity tried to shake her head, but Oliver held it firmly.  She didn’t even know what she was denying.  She just didn’t know what she was supposed to say.  It wasn’t like she was super alert during the horrific procedures.  It wasn’t like they _explained_ what they were doing while they were experimenting on her.

“I’m not sure,” Felicity babbled, stupidly.  “I just know that they…they—”

“Felicity!”

“They looked, I guess?  And they seemed to be doing tests or whatever…. _down there_.  I don’t remember the details, just feeling it and… _hating_ it.”

Oh God, she’d said too much.  Oliver was about to _lose_ it.  She could see coming.  This was the look he got just before tables went flying.  Or bad guys, if they were lucky enough to have some on hand.  Maybe Felicity should try to get him to drink some happy juice before he did anything too rash and…

But, then, over Oliver’s shoulder the air started to shimmer.  The pink was easy to differentiate amongst all the white. 

Their jailers were changing things up.  Had they heard what Felicity and Oliver were talking about?  Had the seen how close to the edge Oliver was and decided to take matters into their own hands?  Maybe the Brians were sick having to fight Oliver.  _Every time._   And decided it was more logical to gas them first.  Really, it was rather foolish that it took them so long to figure that out.

“Oliver,” Felicity murmured, “I don’t think you are going to have a chance to convince them of anything today.”

His eyes narrowed, then widened as recognition came over his face.  Oliver’s hands dropped from her cheeks and his eyes darted around the room, instinctively searching for threats.

He needed to stop.  There was nothing to fight.  It was futile.  Felicity didn’t want Oliver to get hurt.   Not when he would only lose anyway.

She threw herself at his chest, wrapping her arms around him and hugging as tight as she could with her weakening muscles.  Oliver just needed to let things happen this time.  They could reassess later.  Right now, they just needed to sleep.

Felicity just prayed that they would be allowed to stay asleep this time.

 

 

*   *   *   *   *    *   *

 

 

It was different this time. The entire routine.

Oliver lost consciousness sitting on the floor by the window, Felicity kneeling between his legs, wrapped in his arms.  The next thing he knew, he was lying flat on a stretcher, alone in the chamber that separated the White Room from the rest of their prison.

But the strangest thing was what woke him.  It wasn’t smelling salts.  Or anything else Amy did.  It was something altogether different. 

A _smell_. 

A smell was unlike _anything_. 

It was nothing like the sharp, pungent sent of smelling salts.

It smelled like sex.  And baked goods.  And… _home_.  But not like any home Oliver had ever known.  Like the home he _wanted_ to know.  That he _needed_ to know.   

There was a familiar muskiness underneath it all and it didn’t make sense how all the aromas worked together, but they did and it smelled sooo… _amazing_.  Fuck, nothing had ever smelled this incredible before.  It was intoxicating.  Dizzying.

And it made Oliver unbelievably, intensely _aroused_.

Blowing out a breath, Oliver forced himself to sit up, though it was difficult with the arousal punching him in the gut and his cock hard enough to pound nails.

Oliver blinked, trying to clear his vision, instinctively looking around for Felicity.  It felt like she was close, but he was alone in the claustrophobic little box of a room.  Oliver wanted to tear down the walls.  He needed to get to her.  He needed…

But, then, another waft of scent came through the cracks in the door and Oliver’s eyes slipped shut involuntarily and he found himself sniffing the air like a Goddamn animal needing more.

His head was swimming, but, somehow, he managed to hear the door slide open and he blinked through his blurry vision to see Amy slip through the door.  Oliver had just enough presence of mind left to rip the sheet from the stretcher and bunch it in front of his raging erection. 

Why the hell did they keep putting a child in these situations!?  The people in charge of this experiment were some sick mother fuckers and Oliver was going to rip them to shreds before this was done. 

He managed to get himself covered, hunched over, with his arm blocking Amy’s view.  Of course, by doing so, Oliver had missed his chance to get through the damn door and possibly back to Felicity, because the door shut behind Amy, locking them into the small chamber together.  God fucking _damn_ it!

Curling over himself, Oliver took a deep breath, trying to clear his head.  And control his anger. Among other things.

“Is it lovely?”

“What?!” Oliver snapped, eyes flying to the strange girl.

“The smell?  Is it lovely?” Amy asked wistfully.  “I’m told it smells wonderful.  Does it?”

“Can’t you smell it?” Oliver’s voice was rough, like thick grained sandpaper.  He was breathing hard. 

How could she not smell it?  Every breath Oliver took came with a great gasp of the wonderful, fragrant air.  It permeated everything.

But Amy shook her head.  “No.  The smell is just for you.”

What the _hell_ was she talking about?  Oliver could only shake his head.  This was insane.

“It’s pheromones.  From your mate.”

Oliver drew up, instantly alert. 

 _Felicity_. 

Oliver’s heart thudded as he instinctively scanned the room, though he knew he wouldn’t find anything.  But, then, he scented the air again and _knew_ the smell was coming from through that door.  Felicity was in there and, somehow, this smell was her.

The need to get through that door was already unbearably intense and it was building by the second. 

“What did you do?” he growled.  Some distant place in Oliver’s brain knew this wasn’t normal.  People didn’t give off pheromones.  _Animals_ gave off pheromones.  “What did you _do_ to her!” he roared.

But even as he did it, Oliver knew he was _acting_ like an animal, his teeth bared.  He was practically snarling.  He needed to get a hold of himself.

“We unlocked her… _both_ of your full potentials.  We—”

Oliver snarled, for real this time, and Amy actually jumped, though she composed herself quickly.  Taking careful breathes, Oliver climbed off the stretcher, turning and fumbling with the damn sheet to wrap it around his waist as he tried to gather some remnant of the self-discipline he’d so carefully built over the years.

“Why is Felicity…? Why is she giving off pheromones like a f—like an _animal_?!” Oliver demanded through clenched teeth, his eyes carefully on the knot he was trying to tie at his waist and not on the girl.   

“Not like an animal,” Amy protested.  “She’s more human than ever.  She—”

“No more half answers!” Oliver barked, trembling with the effort to keep his distance.

But if he had startled her before, Amy was over it, and she said gently, “Your mate is in Heat, Mr. Oliver.  That’s how we know the treatment was a success.  There’s no reason to worry.  It was a tremendous triumph.”

Oliver was shaking his head.  He didn't understand half of what the girl was saying, but he understood…oh, he _understood_ that they had _done something to Felicity_.  His vision went red. 

“I want to see her!  You let me see her _right now_!” Oliver roared, rushing past Amy and banging on the door mindlessly, trying to pry it open with his bare hands.

And, in the moment, Oliver really felt he could.  He had never felt so strong.

“Just one more minute,” Amy told him with complete calm.

Oliver spun and glared at her, how could she stay cool and collected.  Why wasn’t she terrified of him?  He was scaring himself.

“I’m not afraid,” Amy told him with a gentle smile, almost as if she could read his thoughts, which was so fucking creepy.  “Of course, you feel this way.  It’s the natural Alpha response to a perceived threat to his mate.  But _we_ aren’t a threat, I swear.”

“Alpha?”  What the fuck!  Oliver clenched his fists and shook his head in attempt to clear it.    “Just say what you have to say and let me see her!”

“I…” Amy actually looked slightly flustered at that.  “Just let your body tell you what to do.  Your Omega needs you to get her through her Heat, but it shouldn’t be a hardship.  I understand a Heat is quite enjoyable.”

Oh God.  Oliver had no idea what this Alpha-Omega shit was, but…Amy was saying he needed to have sex with Felicity.  That was what she meant by getting her through the Heat.  What else could she mean?

“And if we don’t?” Oliver managed to ask, “If we don’t… _mate_?  What will happen to Felicity?”

Amy smile widened and she shrugged, “I really don’t think that will be an issue.”

“What if!?” Oliver bellowed.

Amy shrugged again, almost apologetic this time.  “I can’t really say.  That’s never happened before.”

Then, before Oliver could even wrap his head around her words, the door behind his back opened and he stumbled backward.  It was accompanied by an incredible rush of pheromones that had his head reeling and his cock throbbing. 

The door was already closing behind him, but this time Oliver didn't care.  He was already searching for Felicity. 

And she was there, lying on the bed as she always was, but, this time, instead of curled into a ball under the covers, Felicity was sprawled out, gloriously naked, the covers thrown away, a fine sheen of perspiration over her entire body as her hands clutched at the sheets and she, honest to God, writhed on the bed.

Oliver was frozen, unable to do anything but stare, his mind frozen.  Blank.

Then Felicity’s eyes snapped open and met his.  She huffed out a breath and almost smiled, reaching out a hand and moaning, “ _Oliver_.”

What the _fuck_ was he supposed to do now!

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running crazy late today and want to get this up so I'm going to forgo the rambling authors note I want to write . I think I'll post it tonight on tumblr, but here's the highlights: 
> 
> 1\. Yay. Omega verse. So excited (*** edited to add: more on Tumblr about this ***)
> 
> 2\. Thanks to my betas, **fairytalehearts, ireland1733, and dontyou-forgetaboutme89** they seriously rock! 
> 
> 3\. Still haven't responded to comments. But I will !!!! I appreciate all of them but life is kicking my butt!
> 
> 4\. I can't tell you how excited and nervous I am for chapter 7! (*** edited to add: more on Tumblr about this ***)
> 
> 5\. Please remember to leave comments and kudos. Lots of reveals in next chapter so get your predictions and theories while you can still get credit. ;)
> 
> 6\. Anyone have any strong feelings adding potentially spoilery tags? I'm debating what and when to add them.
> 
> Thanks you for reading!!!! This was a tough chapter so I hope you liked it!
> 
> Emmy
> 
> emmilynestill.tumblr.com


	7. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Explicit. Well, more Explicit than previous chapters. :-)

The next thing Felicity knew, she was being placed on the massive bed in the White Room. Same as after every other treatment except…

Felicity had little to no memory of the treatments, _thank God_ , and when Brian laid her down, she was, somehow, wearing clothing.  Well, as much as a white hospital gown counted as clothing, but it was the closest thing Felicity had been allowed in weeks. The biggest difference, however…she didn’t have the desire to curl up in a ball and die. 

So… _maaaybe_ it wasn’t the same after all. 

Felicity felt strange, actually.  Hot, like she had a fever.  Only nothing like a fever, because she didn’t feel sick.  There were no chills or aches or fatigue.  She felt energized, as a matter of fact.  And hot.  So very hot. 

Brian left immediately.  The mute bouncer never lingered.  But Amy sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, a small smile on her lips.  “Are you feeling better, Miss Felicity?”

“I…”  Felicity shook her head, blinking her eyes in attempt to clear her mind and her vision.  In truth, she didn’t know how she felt.  “I don’t…” 

The helplessness and despair were gone.  As if they had never been there in the first place.  Felicity couldn’t actually fully comprehend why she had felt so hopeless to begin with.  Why all her fight had left.  Because, at the moment, the situation didn’t feel that dire at all.

They had been in worse places.  Oliver had been in a _lot_ worse places.  They were together and healthy and their captors seemed pretty intent on keeping them that way.  The circumstances sucked, but they were temporary.  Felicity had faith that she and Oliver could do this.   _Would_ do this.  Would survive and escape.  Be even stronger because of it.  Absolutely.   

Despite feeling…weird.  And dizzy, kind of.  A bit foggy.  And really, really warm.  Like bonfire warm.  And…oh dear lord… _aroused_.

Felicity snatched up the sheet when she realized that her nipples were fully erect, pulling it over her.  Though, her skin burned and objected.  Really, what she wanted was to tear off this gown, not add more layers of covering.  The hospital gown was made of soft, worn cotton, but it felt like she was wearing sandpaper.  This place just kept getting stranger.

“The depression is gone, is it not?” Amy prompted again, actually looking concerned.

“How did you _know_ that?” Felicity gasped, starting to feel kinda freaked out, so maybe the anxiety was coming back.  It was hard to tell.  She was just feeling so _much_.  It was difficult to think, but something about the way Amy referenced her moods made Felicity’s hackles rise.

Amy sighed with what looked like relief.  “It’s gone,” she stated, decisively.  Irritatingly. Were all little girls this irritating?  Felicity didn’t know very many.

Holding the offensive covers to her as she reflexively scooted away from the girl on the bed, Felicity nodded. 

“Oh good!” Amy breathed, that freakish, beaming smile back.  “The depression usually goes away as soon as the Heat hits, but we did want to make certain.  Everyone is different and yours was particularly bad.”

Okay, that was a lot of information. At least, Felicity thought it was.  There seemed to be more clues in that sentence than all the girl had said to her previously, but Felicity’s feverish brain was having trouble keeping up.  Where was Oliver?  She really needed Oliver.

“Heat?” Felicity asked, grasping onto the thing that seemed most relevant.  “What are you talking about?  Like a…a… _dog_!?”

Animals went into Heat.  Not humans.  Wolves and Chihuahuas and rabbits.  What the frack was this?  But ‘Heat’ was certainly an appropriate description of what Felicity was feeling in that moment.

“Actually,” Amy sang, and Felicity was starting to see why her cheerfulness made Oliver want to break things.  “All mammals were created to go through a sort of Heat.  The Human Heat just got locked away.  A mistake of evolution, perhaps.  It was always there in the genes.  Dr. Young merely unlocked it.  Accidentally.”

“ _Accidentally_!” Felicity found herself yelling.  She almost bolted from the bed it shook her so hard.  How the hell does someone _accidentally_ unlock someone’s fracken genes and turn them into a mindless rutting animal?  What the flying Goddamn… _fuck_ …

“It’s alright,” Amy tried to reassure, (like _that_ was happening) her hands going up in surrender, though she still seemed remarkably calm given the fact that Felicity had no doubt that she resembled a rabid animal, which was totally their fault BTW.  “Now that the treatment is complete, I can explain.”

Complete?  Dear God.  Felicity didn’t know if she should be horrified or relieved.  What had these crazy people _done_ to them?  How do they _un_ do it? But _T hank God! _ No more treatments!  Felicity didn’t know if she could have handled many more of them.

“You see,” Amy began, climbing further onto the bed and crossing her legs.  Getting comfortable, apparently.  “Dr. Young has been working for decades to unlock the full human potential, to free the latent genes to make humans…better.  Extra-human.  Super-human, as some Americans would say.”

Felicity burst out laughing.  True, hysterical, lock-me-up-in-an-institution, crazy person laughter.  She shook her head in denial.  “No.  No.  This isn’t happening.  I’m dreaming this.  It’s a hallucination…”  Because this was _not_ real life.  _Superhuman_?  No.  Felicity’s life verged on the fantastical most days, but this was… _fiction_.  No _way_ was this real.

Amy smiled sympathetically and it really didn’t make Felicity feel any better.  “I can see how it feels that way, but it’s very real,” the girl insisted.  “Dr. Young found that when he unlocked the Superhuman genes, he also unlocked certain…hormonal variants.  It made the subjects unstable.”

“Maybe _Dr. Young_ should have taken this as a sign,” Felicity bit out.  A sign to take his fucking crazy-ass eugenics experiments and stick them where the sun don’t shine.  Maybe it was her Jewish heritage, but Felicity was having some old school Nazis feels for Dr. Young right now.  And thinking that Oliver was going to have to make an exception to his no- killing rule.

Of course, Amy continued as if Felicity hadn’t spoken at all, “It did seem like it was a setback. Until the doctor realized that if he brought certain genetically matched pairs through the unlocking process together, then they stabilize each other and the results were so much better than we had hoped for.”

"So, let me get this straight?” Felicity was going to throw up. “You are playing match-maker based on coordinating nucleotides?  Amy, do you have any idea how completely messed up that is?”  Did this child have _any_ ability to think for herself?  How deep did the brainwashing go?

“No, Miss Felicity, _you_ don’t understand.  Every matching couple that we found, while not always together, were already in love.  Don’t you see?  What we found was the genetic markers for Soulmates.”

All the blood rushed to Felicity’s head and her vision swam.  For a long minute, she was certain that she was going to pass out.  Soulmates.  _Soulmates_.  Seriously?  That couldn’t be right.  Could there really be such a thing? 

This child was actually trying to tell her Oliver was her genetic _Soulmate_.  It was almost an oxymoron given that a soul was a spiritual construct, but genes were pure science.  Yet, Felicity wanted it to be true.  Dear God, even with all the evil being done here, all the manipulations, and violations of their rights, deep in her very essence Felicity _wanted_ nothing more than for this to be the truth.

What the _hell_ was wrong with her?

“If that’s true,” Felicity argued, trying to keep her working brain cells off her delusional sick hope, “then why not just approach these couples?  _Ask_ if they would _voluntarily_ join your…” disgusting, “…experiment.  If your motives are so _pure_ , surely—”

“Oh, but Miss Felicity, that would be disingenuous.”

What the…what?  _Disingenuous_?  “Excuse me?”

Despite everything, it was as if Amy were unable to look anything _but_ innocent.  “It wouldn’t be fair to pretend you had a choice, when you didn’t really have one.”

That was the most insane logic Felicity had ever heard.  And she worked with Oliver.  “ _Or_ you could _give_ them a choice!” she almost screamed, because she was still really hot and it was distracting and this was _Crazy-Town_!

And, _still_ , the girl was completely unfazed by Felicity’s passion and, God forbid, _logic_.  “Couples like you are far too rare to take that chance.”

“But…what…?”  Alright, now that threw Felicity again, because she was back to thinking about the Soulmate thing and thinking about Oliver and how _right_ it felt to be with him and could it be possible that they were _meant to be_ …?  Again with the crazy-talk! Or crazy thinking more precisely.    _Where_ was Oliver?  She needed him.  This was just too much!

“It’s not just the genetic match,” Amy explained, her brown eyes wide.  “Though, that isn’t easy to find either.  It’s not safe to bring just anyone through the unlocking process.  The results are quite powerful.  We can’t allow just anyone to have these kinds of abilities.”

“But I…we…”  And, again, Felicity was…crap.  Abilities…?  What...?  Was this a new part of their torture?  To scramble her brains with hormones, then present her with massive amounts of lunatic information to process.  “I don’t understand,” she almost sobbed.

Amy reached out as if to touch her, but then seemed to think better of it, which was good, because, again, Felicity’s skin, burning up.  She didn’t think she could stomach anyone touching her.  Anyone but Oliver, anyway.

“Your Oliver.  He is quite exceptional.  You know that, right?”

“Yes,” Felicity whispered, her eyes narrowing.  Now where was _this_ going?  Enough left turns, already.

“We could not have designed a series of more perfect trails to test him.  He has emerged triumphant through multiple struggles and tribulations, through torture and loss, trauma.  He has become strong and powerful in his own right, and with that power, with his skills, and the influence afforded him through his wealth, he has chosen to do the right thing.  To be good.  He is the _perfect_ treatment candidate.”

Felicity’s eyes widened throughout the speech, overwhelmed by the incredible swell of pride and possessiveness that Amy’s speech touched in her.  She knew she should argue with this logic, but her gut, her _soul_ , believed every word the girl said.  And it made her feel… _unworthy_.

“But I…” Now, Felicity wanted to cry.  Damn hormones!

Amy shook her head.  “You are his stabilizing force.  Long before either of you had a treatment, you were balancing Mr. Oliver and helping him make better choices, righteous choices.  Your appearance in his life was a huge turning point in his journey.  It wasn’t until your journeys _combined_ that it became a true heroes’ journey.” 

The girl broke out in an enormous grin, clasping her hands together in excitement.  “And your morality is impeccable.  So, you must see why we were so excited to find you both.  You are the _perfect_ pair.”

Felicity did.  God help, her she did.

And if this wasn’t the most humongous heap of insanity she had ever heard in her entire life, she didn’t know what was.  The fact that Felicity understood, made her even more certain that she was _losing_ _her mind_.

“What I _see_ is that we were abducted and had our genes manipulated against our will,” Felicity barked.  Because _that,_ unfortunately, she believed without a doubt.

“ _See_ , it’s your strong belief in human rights and free will that makes you both perfect for the treatment as well as making it clear you would never volunteer outright.”

Felicity growled at that and it sounded frighteningly like Oliver.  “This is how you justify torture?”

Amy looked like she had been slapped and Felicity felt a perverse thrill that she had finally affected her. 

“We aren’t torturing anyone, Miss Felicity.  We try to make the process as painless as possible.  The end is hard, it’s true.  But that is only because your enhanced bodies make it very difficult to keep you sedated towards the end of treatment.  The depression you experience is hormonal.  We’ve been looking for a way to temper it, but…we call in Pre-Heat Depression, not unlike PMS or PMDD or even Postpartum Depression.  It can be bad, but it is over now and it is never as bad as it is before the first Heat.”

“First?”  Felicity croaked.  Oh God, was this to be the rest of her life?  What had they done to her?  To _them_?  Was it irreversible?

Felicity pressed her palms to her eyes.  Her hands were shaking and covered with sweat.  Her whole body was covered with perspiration.  If only she could think clearly…

Then a sudden smell permeated the room.  Not the sweet gas that they were used to.  That had just smelled like sugar, like cotton candy straight out of the machine.  No, this was woodsy.  It smelled like the forest.  Like man.  Like pine and musk.  Heaven and sex.

Her brain completely fogged over as she was hit with a shot of arousal so strong she reeled.  Felicity had never felt anything, _anything_ like it.  She almost felt like she could orgasm from the smell alone. 

“Ah, your mate must be back.” 

Felicity was lucky she could make out Amy’s words through the fog, but still, she was struck by how a) this was happening in front if a child, which was just sooo wrong on so many levels.  Miraculously, Felicity found the presence of mind to clutch the sheet closer. 

And b) God, _Oliver_ …Please, please let that mean Oliver was back.  Felicity needed him like she needed air.

Which lead to c) Oh dear lord…was that smell _him_?

Amy stood, turning to the side-table and pouring a glass of ice water.  “I need to go and prepare Mr. Oliver now.  Here, this will help a bit.”   Felicity took the glass because the ice looked too good to resist.   “I know this is overwhelming, but you will feel better when your Alpha is here.”

Felicity choked on the water just as she started to drink, the water dribbling over her chin.  _Frack_.  “Alpha?”

“Yes, we call our couples Alphas and Omegas because of how they fit together, because they are the beginning and the end of mankind.”  Amy grinned and actually bobbed a curtsy.  A Goddamn curtsy.  So fricken polite.  “Enjoy your heat, Miss Felicity.  I’m told it’s quite wonderful.”

When the door cracked open for Amy to slip out into the antechamber, another wave of the smell… _the pheromone_ , the functional part of Felicity’s brain provided.…escaped and it was so strong, so incredible, that she almost dropped her glass.

But, instead, Felicity clutched it tighter and gulped down the rest of the water, hoping that Amy wasn’t lying about it clearing her head, because the fog only seemed to be getting worse.  With every passing second all she seemed to able to do is think about Oliver.  

Oliver’s…arms and Oliver’s abs.  Oliver’s lips and tongue and how they felt against hers and how they were going to feel over her over heated skin and how she needed him to be touching her now…now… _now_!

Oh God, she wanted him inside her.  If Oliver’s cock wasn’t hard when he walked through that door, Felicity was going to cry.  The mere idea of seeing it swollen for her as it was that first day, made her mouth water and her palms itch.  She needed…

The water was gone and nope… really not feeling any clearer.  The fabric against her body was rapidly becoming painful.  Felicity barely hesitated a second before tearing the sheets off and throwing them onto the floor.  The hospital gown quickly followed.

It was a relief but not enough, so she scooped the ice out of the bottom of the glass and rubbed it down her neck and between her breasts.  _That_ felt good.  Collapsing on her back in relief, Felicity ran the rapidly melting ice down and over her belly, taking deep breaths and trying not to imagine that it was Oliver bathing her in ice.

Ever better if the ice were between his teeth…

Ugh…she was so _gone_.

Though fantasizing about ice between Oliver’s teeth was better than fantasizing about Oliver’s cock, she supposed. 

And, then, because things weren’t bad enough, Felicity heard the unmistakable sound of Oliver’s roar from behind the closed door.  She felt the sound like a caress and her back bowed, reaching for it.

Why weren’t they letting him in?  Felicity needed him!  They needed to stop playing these fucking games and give her her _mate_ back!   

Felicity needed relief quickly or…she really didn’t know what would happen, but at this point she wouldn’t be surprised if she quite literally caught on fire.  Desperate, she ran her own hands over her body, closing them over her swollen breasts.  But while it didn’t hurt the way the fabric had, it didn’t soothe either.  If anything, it made her ache _more_.

Frantic, Felicity ran her damp hand across her belly and between her legs, both praying and worrying that Oliver would burst through the door as she did so.  The last threats of modesty and restraint were burning away fast and it was so hard to care.

Touching her slick, smooth sex was strange and foreign to her, but it felt incredible, so much more sensitive to every sensation than it ever was before.  Felicity felt no relief though, only a deep craving to feel the roughness of Oliver’s skin against her, his callouses, and dear God, the brush of his scruff.  Her clit was far too sensitive to be touched directly, so she tried for a gentle rhythm above the hood to take the edge off.

And _still,_ the edge just got sharper.  All she really wanted was to be filled.  And she was afraid only one person would do.  Felicity buried three fingers inside herself, but it did nothing.  No matter how she moved them, she barely felt a thing.  She pinched a nipple… nothing.

It wasn’t until she heard Oliver roar again, accompanied by banging on the door and another wave of pheromones that a shock of pleasure coursed through Felicity’s body.

But it was gone too soon.  “Oliver,” Felicity whimpered, pulling her hands away in frustration and flopping onto her front.

Another bang on the door started Felicity’s hips moving.  Why weren’t they letting Oliver _in_?  It didn’t make any sense.  They wanted them together, didn’t they?  They wanted Oliver and Felicity to mate, right?  Well, let them _mate_ , for frack’s sake!!

The silk on her breasts and against her belly was delicious, but just made her want Oliver more.  Felicity threw herself onto her back again, letting out a frustrated growl, debating screaming for him, maybe even rushing the door from the other side.  But, instead, her eyes just stayed glued to the door, clutching the sheets and willing Oliver to come through.

As soon as fracking possible.

When the doors finally opened, relief was a physical thing.  Felicity had never cared less for her dignity.  When she saw Oliver, she opened her arms for him and moaned.  Pathetic?  Desperate?  Hell, yeah, but it had never mattered less.  She needed him.  She needed him _now_!

“ _Oliver_.”

He was panting, his chest visibly rising and falling with the speed of his breathes.  “Felicity,” he growled, rushing to her with gratifying speed, full-on parkouring the sparse furniture in the room in an effort to get to her.

It would have caused a spike of arousal if Felicity weren’t already as turned on as a human-being could possibly _be_ turned on.  If she were in any worse shape, she would very likely be having a heart attack right about now. 

But, instead of coming into her arms as Felicity wanted, Oliver grabbed her hand and found her cheek with his other palm, stroking her sweat dampened skin, moving to her forehead, brushing the damp hair from her face.

“Felicity, baby, what have they done to you?  Tell me—”

But telling him would have been a waste of breath and Felicity really couldn’t spare any at the moment.  And as much as Oliver’s touch felt wonderful, she needed _so_ much more.  So, instead of answering his rambles, she yanked on his hand, pulling him off balance as she carded her fingers into his hair and crashed his lips to hers.

He didn’t resist.  Thank God.  Thank God.  Oliver followed her lead and their open lips mashed together.  Felicity immediately sought and found his tongue.  Because they needed no hello.  They needed to enmesh.  To tangle around one another. To merge. 

For one blissful moment it was perfect.  So right that it was enough.  The stroke of his tongue and his incredible Oliver taste and his smell and, oh God, his _smell_ …new and familiar and the _most_ extraordinary thing.  She couldn’t get enough of it.  Even through her cloudy thoughts, she knew in her bones, in her _soul_ that this was right.  Nothing had even _been_ this right.

But Oliver stopped.  He pulled away.  The bastard.  Thankfully not far, but too _damn_ far and didn’t he understand Felicity was _combusting_?  She tried to pull him back, but he was too fricken strong. 

Mercifully, he kept a hand curled around her cheek and her fingers tightly tangled with his.  She didn’t know what she would do if she lost contact completely.  Still, Felicity couldn’t help but arch toward him and Oliver pressed a quick kiss to her lips, as if he couldn’t help himself.  He should just go with that instinct. Keep kissing her.  Keep…

Felicity chased his lips as he pulled back.

“Wait, baby, wait…” Oliver murmured, stroking her cheek and Felicity turned her head to catch his thumb on her lip.  “Felicity…what did they do to you?”

Seriously?  Oliver didn’t actually think they could have a _conversation_?  _Now_?

Felicity shook her head, rasping, “Later, I…”  She ran her eyes over him.  God, he was gorgeous, flushed and damp and rumpled.  The scars were almost gone and his skin was perfection itself.  She could just make out the tip of his cock, half obscured by the way he was bent over her.  Oliver was ready too.  Thank _goodness_.  She just needed him to give in.  “I need…I...”

“Anything,” Oliver promised, pressing another soft kiss to her lips.

“I need _you_.  Inside me.  _Now_.”

 

Oliver visually shuttered.  His eyes fluttered and closed, his hand clenching hers almost painfully.  “Oh God, Felicity.  I—”

Felicity yanked him back in for another kiss, but he kept it shallow.  Oliver’s lips were wonderful and talented and all, but…she sucked on his bottom lip, sweeping it with her tongue.

Groaning, Oliver gave Felicity what she wanted, but only for a moment before whispering against her lips, “You’re gonna kill me.”

And Felicity was going to _die_ if Oliver kept stopping.  She really didn’t think that was an exaggeration.  As far as she knew, it could be quite literal. 

“Oliver,” was the only word she seemed to be able to form as she tugged at his hair.  He kissed her again and she moaned into it, throwing a leg over his flank and trying to pull him on top of her.

But _again_ , that only made Oliver pull back.  This was getting really old. 

“Felicity…Felicity…” Oliver grabbed her leg and while she loved the feel of his hand along her calf, he was lifting it off of him.  _Damn_ him.  “God, I _want_ to.  You have no _idea_ …but we can’t do this without talking first.”

 

Sobbing, Felicity threw her head back in frustration.  Didn’t Oliver understand that she _couldn’t_?  She just needed him  Inside her, over her, under her, it didn’t matter.   And she knew he wanted her too.   She’d seen how much he wanted her.  Why couldn’t he just…

But when Felicity looked at him, Oliver looked like he was in pain and not the kind that would be solved by giving in to her.   So she tried, she _tried_ …

“Can’t, Oliver.  Can’t even think…I just…I just need you sooo much…”

“Felicity…” Oliver ran his hands over her body and it felt like heaven, a soothing balm to her overheated skin.  His eyes were hooded and he pressed a soft kiss to the swell of her breast.  “I know,” he whispered against her. “I feel it too. But I can’t do this to you.”

Do what?  He made it sound like a bad thing, but didn’t Oliver know that he was torturing her by staying away?  She had never needed anything as much as she needed Oliver _ten minutes ago_ and now it was pure agony. “Please,” Felicity whined trying to pull him closer again.

“More.  _Please_.”  Felicity sobbed and rolled her head.  It was too much and not enough.  Not enough.  Oliver really didn’t understand what was going on here.  He was going too slowly.  He was teasing her and she was already frantic for him. This was no time for Goddamn foreplay!!

Two fingers pushed inside her and his thumb found her clit.  Expertly.  It felt like he already knew her body so well.  His fingers felt so much better than hers.  They were the perfect amount of rough and gentle, thick and… it still wasn’t working!

And it wasn’t _going_ to work.  Felicity knew this.  There was only one thing that was going to satisfy her.  As amazing as Oliver’s fingers were, she needed more and she was having trouble even finding the breath to tell him. 

“Not gonna work,” Felicity sobbed.  “I tried.  I tried.  I tr—”  


“You tried touching yourself?” Oliver rasped, swallowing audibly.  His hand paused and twitched, his body shuttering.

Felicity nodded, a frantic bob of her head.  “It just makes it worse.  You don’t get it...I need _you_.”

“ _Christ_!” Oliver bit out, looking away, his jaw hard.

But Felicity also saw his cock jump and it made her smile.  It made her mouth water.  She couldn’t take her eyes off it as she murmured, “I need you _inside_ me, Oliver.”

“Jesus Christ!  Okay…  Okay…  Hold on, baby.”

Felicity started when he stood, his arms coming around her.  “Olive—”

Oliver scooped her up into his arms.  The motion made Felicity dizzy and she clung to him, burying her face in his chest.  For a moment, she couldn’t think beyond that because every place that her skin touched his was bliss.

She was only vaguely aware of being carried past the curtain and the sound of rush—

“Ahhhh…”

Oh dear _God_.

Felicity gasped and clung to him as the freezing cold water hit her, shocking her to her bones.  Oliver lowered her to her feet and pulled her into his arms.  Sweeping the water and her sodden hair out of her eyes, she took a deep breath and burrowed into him, trying to adjust.

Out of the corner of her eye, Felicity saw Oliver dial the water back from frigid to just cold, before his palm again found her back.  “Better?” he whispered into her ear.

Blinking, Felicity nodded.  “Yeah.”  It was, actually.  She could breathe.  And she was starting to be able to create something resembling a coherent thought.  “Actually, it feels kinda good.” 

She stood with the cold water beating on her shoulders and Oliver pressed against her front, his hands rubbing soothing lengths on her back.  Well, it wasn’t as good as having him inside her, but it took the edge off.  Felicity rested her cheek on his chest and took long breaths, trying to clear her head.

After a long minute, Oliver tipped up her chin and met her eyes.  For a moment, Felicity was mesmerized by how the water droplets clung to his lashes and framed his blue, blue eyes.  She never would have been able to see this before they fixed her eyes.  Showers were always a blur.

“Can you think now?” Oliver croaked, his voice nothing but a husky murmur amongst the rushing water.

It was an excellent question, actually.  _Could_ she think?  “Better,” Felicity told him with a semi-hysterical laugh, because even if her thoughts were making more sense now, she certainly wasn’t her usual sharp self.   “I think…I think I can _kinda_ hold a conversation…maybe…if it’s short?”

Oliver smiled at that, pressing a hard kiss to her forehead.  Which really _didn’t_ help.  “Are you _okay_?” The question held an intensity that went far beyond the simple words.

“Ahhh…” The side of Felicity’s lips quirked up, because that was a difficult one.  “Define okay?”

Somehow, it reassured Oliver, though, because his answering smile was relieved.  “You sound like Felicity again, so that’s something.”

“And the depression is gone.  Thank God.”  Felicity shuddered.  That had been awful.  Eight of the worst days of her life.  “Apparently, it was hormonal.”  


“Oh.  That’s good.  I guess.”  Oliver’s brows furrowed and he bit his lower lip, searching her face.  “Are you in pain?”

That triggered a genuine laugh and Felicity couldn’t help but come up onto her toes to press her belly against his erection.  Which, by the feel of it, was not in the least bit affected by the cold.  “Define pain?”

Oliver looked taken aback, but then he chuckled too, his eyes skittering away and looking bashful.  Goddamn, he was eatable. 

Swallowing, Felicity managed to say, “So, you wanted to talk.  I have a feeling we have limited time before…” Oliver’s hands wandered to her ass and pulled her closer.  “Mmmm.  Yeah, _that_. I like that, but it’s really not helping me focus on—”

“Sorry.”  Oliver immediately apologized and dropped his hands, stepping back.  “Maybe some distance—”

“No!”  As soon as Oliver stepped away her skin started to itch and burn, the cold water painful instead of soothing.  Felicity lunged back into his arms.  “I need…I need contact.  It helps.  So much…”  


“Alright.  Alright.”  Oliver responded quickly by pulling Felicity to him tight, seeming to realize his mistake immediately.  “I’ll keep the wondering hands to a minimum, though. The water is muffling your smell a little, but…” His nose found the space under her ear and nuzzled.  “It’s still intoxicating.”

This time the shiver that ran through Felicity’s body was wholly of the pleasurable type, she loved the idea that her smell was affecting him too.  “Mmm, me too.”  She buried her nose in his smooth chest, just barely restraining herself from tracing his nipple with her tongue.  That would _probably_ be worse than wondering hands.

“ _Felicity_.”  It came out as a whine.  His lips pressed to her hair, his hands kneading her shoulders and back.  “Do you really want _this_ —?”

“Uh, _yeah_.”  Like more than she had ever wanted anything.  Ever.

Okay, consent was given.   _Again_.  Oliver’s obsession soothed.  Time to get on with it.  She let her hands wander down to his ass—

“ _Felicity_.  We need to discuss this.” 

Sigh.  Why was Oliver suddenly so into _discussing_ things?  Of all times for him to get chatty!

Oliver tipped up her face again and this time Felicity refused to get distracted by the beauty that was his eyes and face.  “Felicity, this is more than just…this is… They are purposely trying to make…They’re _forcing_ us to have sex.  Mate or whatever.”

Well, duh.  Mr. Obvious here.  “Actually, it sounds to me like it’s an unintended side effect.”

Frowning, Oliver narrowed his eyes.  “What?”

Clearly, Amy hadn’t had the time to give Oliver the whole convoluted story.  Great, now they were going to have to rely on her fuzzy memory for information.  Though, it made sense giving the banging and growling and need to get through that stupid door.  Now that Felicity thought about it, it was a good thing Amy hadn’t taken the extra time.

“There was this whole thing about genes and stabilizing forces and Super-humans.”  Ugh, it made Felicity’s head hurt just to think about it.  “I can’t explain right now.  Later.  I’ll tell you everything later.”  The fire was building again.  She rubbed against him, whining, “ _Oliver_.”

But he grabbed her hips, stopping the grinding motion she hadn’t even realized she had started.  “Felicity,” Oliver warned in a low growl against her ear.  “I’m not sure what you are talking about, but if they want me to…” He swallowed loudly. “To get you pregnant…”  
  
Right.  That.  That had been a theory of Felicity’s before as well.  “You can’t,” she whispered back, “I’m on birth control.”  She actually felt a little smug that she’d one upped the bastards on that one.

“We’ve been here over a month,” Oliver hissed, low.

Felicity raised up to her toes so she could whisper in his ear without them being overheard.  “I get a shot.  It lasts six months.  It’s impossible to remember to take the pill with our schedule. 

Oliver visibly deflated, breathing, “Oh. Thank God.”

Felicity didn’t have time to analyze that statement, even if her brain were up for it, because Oliver’s mouth had slammed back down on hers.  And, yes…oh dear God, _yes_ …finally.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and opened her mouth wide, only too happy to welcome Oliver’s marauding tongue.  Felicity met him stroke for stroke and threw her leg over his hip.  What was that phrase about climbing someone like a tree?  That sounded good right now.

But before Felicity could get on that, Oliver tore his mouth away, turning his entire head away and pulling in great gasping breaths.  For serious?  Now what?

“Whoa,” Oliver started to stammer.  “Sorry, I…”

“You had _better_ be sorry.  For _stopping_ ,” Felicity snapped.  Now was not the time to mess with her. 

And, of course, the bastard chuckled. “Felicity—”

“It’s not funny, Oliver.  This Heat thing…did she tell you about—”

“ _Yes_.”

“Well, that’s exactly what it feels like.   I’m burning up here.  From the _inside_.  And the only thing that make it better is you.  So, can you, _please_ —”

Oliver cupped her jaw again.  This time with both hands, forcing her to meet his eyes.  His expression was serious now.  “Felicity, I need you to try and focus for a few more minutes, okay?” 

For a moment, all she could do was blink and stare.

“Okay?”

Okay?  Right.  Focus.  Felicity nodded.

Oliver swallowed, leaning in so he was only a breath away.  “Remember, how I said that I would only kiss you if it was a beginning?  That it couldn’t be casual?”  


“Yes,” Felicity breathed.  How could she forget?  Her hands closed around Oliver’s wrists, holding on for dear life.

“Well, I’m not going to let them _make_ us have sex,” Oliver swore.

He was so wonderful.  And Felicity wanted to _kick_ him.

“We don’t have any choice,” Felicity sobbed.  Why couldn’t Oliver see that?

“ _No_ ,” Oliver insisted, clenching his jaw, his eyes drilling into Felicity’s.  “We always have a choice.  I’m not letting them take that from us.  From you.”

Again with the lovely words, but… “Oliver, I don’t think you get it.”  She might die.  Like literally.

“I do,” Oliver whispered, his voice surprisingly calm and soothing.  “I understand.  Your body thinks it needs this.  But I’ll…if I have to stand, or kneel, in this cold shower for days, giving you orgasm after orgasm I will.  I’ll do anything.  But I am not, will _not_ do something you do not want.”

“I _want_ , Oliver.  God, I want.”  Wasn’t he paying any attention?  “I’m begging—”

His thumbs over her mouth silenced Felicity’s hysteric pleading.  “Shhh,” Oliver hummed, “I can’t have casual sex with you.”

Felicity blinked up at him, barely feeling the cold water as it dripped in her face, trying to understand what he was saying.

“We have sex once and it’s a commitment,” Oliver vowed.  “Do you understand?  I can’t go back to the ways things were.  This changes everything.”

Oh.  Okay, then.

“Yes.  God, _yes_.”

Oliver laughed and it was a joyful sound, but _still,_ he shook his head.  “You need to think about this.  It will be difficult.  I’m really fucked up, Felicity.  I don’t know how to be in a relationship.  The danger—”

There was no time to discuss and debate genetic Soulmates, or anything else for that matter.  Felicity grabbed his face this time and made Oliver meet _her_ eyes, enunciating clearly.  “ _Yes, Oliver.”_

His smile was a bit blinding.  “Are you sure?  Because the drugs and the hormones—”

“Oliver!  Do I need to find another way to say ‘yes?’  A different language maybe?”

He laughed.  “If you’re sure, then...”

“Are you?”

Oliver’s response was a hard kiss.  He turned off the water almost violently and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her and starting to dry her off…

Yeah, there was that sandpaper feeling again.  Felicity pushed it away.  “Oliver…no…off.  I…I can’t handle anything touching my skin, except, well, _you_.”

Oliver froze.  Then let out a really sexy growl, before throwing the towel aside and yanking her to him.  He grabbed her ass and lifted.  Felicity gladly obliged, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he boosted her up.  Her core was against his stomach and his cock was resting between her butt cheeks and, wow, that piece of anatomy was all hers now.  On so many levels.  And wasn’t _that_ a lot more than her brain could compute at the moment.

He had one arm looped under her ass and the other behind her head and shoulders, which Oliver used to angle her head to the side, as his tongue filled her mouth.  Alright.  God.  Yes...  No more thinking.  Felicity could get down with that.  No thinking.  Just feeling.  Oh, it was fantastical. 

Felicity clawed at him, rubbing her body against his.  Every place he touched, hers sang with pleasurable sensations.  Oliver seemed to be intent on inventorying the back of her teeth, which was good too.

Oliver lowered her onto the bed, and, wow, Felicity hadn’t even realized they had been moving. 

Felicity stretched out and smiled up at him as he hovered.  God, Oliver was splendid and she couldn’t believe this was happening.  Just wow.  Really.

Oliver placed his hands on the bed, on either side of her head, and pushed down to give her a brief kiss.  And, while the push-up thing was hot, really hot, it was way too brief and if he was thinking he was going to slow down and savor this, he really didn’t get it, because out of the cold water, Felicity was seriously starting to burn up again.

“Felicity,” Oliver gasped, breathless.  “Felicity, one more thing.”

“No.  It can wait.  I need you inside me…” Feeling desperate again, the delirium flooding her, Felicity went to grasp his cock…

“Felicity!”  With a pained look on his face, Oliver grabbed both of her hands and held them above her head in one of his, which meant he had no leverage and his torso rested on hers and, well, that was good too.

“No, now.  I need to tell you…”  Oliver took a deep shaky breath, pushing himself off her with his free hand and meeting her eyes.  “I need to tell you that I’m not doing this because these assholes took us.  I’m not doing this out of obligation or friendship….”

Oh, come on already.  For the strong silent type, Oliver was _really_ into speeches.  “Oliverrrr…”

He swallowed.  “I’m doing this because…I’m doing this because I love you.”

Well, _that_ got Felicity’s attention.

“I love you.  I told you before, I…” Suddenly, the look in Oliver’s eyes was devastated.  “I loved you then.  I’m sorry.  About the way I told you.  The way it all happened.  Do you understand?  Do you?”

“Yes,” Felicity gasped, though she wasn’t sure she did, not fully.  Oh dear God, was it really true?  Oliver _loved_ her?

“Do you forgive me?”

“Oliver…”

“For pretending it was a trick,” Oliver’s voice broke, his eyes turning watery.  “For using how I feel about you in that way.”

God, now he was breaking her heart.  “Oliver, sweetheart,” Felicity wanted to reach out and touch him, but he still held her hands securely.  So she tried to tell him with her eyes.  “You saved the entire city that night.  It was brilliant.  It—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.  I never…I didn’t—”

“It’s _alright_ —”

“I just,” Oliver’s voice was raspy and full of emotion.  Felicity, honestly, wasn’t sure what to do.   
“In the clock tower, when you were…when you gave me that speech about believing in me?  When you told me to find another way?  Remember?”

Felicity laughed, because, of course, she remembered, but, God, how was he able to think this clearly?  “Yeah.”

“I just looked at you and I realized that I’d been lying to myself.  And I thought…Slade’s after the wrong girl.  After that, the plan just came to me.  I didn’t let myself stop and think about how damaging it could be—”  


“Oliver!” Felicity called, making him stop and really look at her.  “I love you, too.”

He froze, the look in his eyes one of disbelief.  Though, he had to have known.  Of course, he _knew_.  After everything.   Then Oliver let out that growl.  The one that he had perfected over the last nine days…and, wow, did that have something to do with the Alpha thing?  But, lord it did something to her.

It reverberated under her skin and, suddenly, Felicity was coming back into full Heat.  Burning alive and delirious.  Unable to think of anything but Oliver, over her, around her… _in_ her.

Oliver dove down and Felicity met his lips half-way.  Their lips already parted, they came together in a clash, their tongues tangled around their moans before there was a second for thought.

He released her wrists, his hands dragging along her arms and down her body.  Felicity took that as permission to clutch Oliver closer, tugging at his hair, digging her nails into his shoulders, arching her back, trying to get contact with as much skin as possible.

When Oliver pulled back, he was gasping.  “Really?  Felicity, I—”

Okay.  _Enough_ conversation.  Felicity grabbed Oliver’s cheeks, holding him still.  “Oliver, I would love to talk to you about everything.  Tell you exactly when I fell in love with you.  Analyze the last two fracken years of our lives, but _please_.  Please, for the love of God, not now.  Now, I need you _inside_ me.”

Oliver actually bared his teeth, in a look so intense and primal that it made Felicity’s eyes roll back into her head.  She parted her legs and arched her neck for him.  Wow, this Alpha/Omega instinct thing was really going to be something.

Those beautiful, white teeth found her neck and ran along its length as Oliver cupped her mound, and as fantastic as it felt, Felicity really didn’t think she could last that long.

“Later,” Felicity panted.

And, thank God, Oliver understood, and finally _agreed_.  Because his hands moved to the insides of her thighs, adjusting her, before leaning down and pressing a surprisingly sweet kiss to Felicity’s lips. 

“I love you,” Oliver rasped.

“I…Ahhhh…” 

Then Oliver was sliding home and, oh God, it felt like…it felt like nothing Felicity had ever felt before.  It felt like home and completeness and the most perfect fire and the greatest, most flawless pleasure all at once.

“You okay?” Oliver panted. 

Felicity blinked her eyes open, not having even realized that they had closed.  Oliver was braced over her, his arms shaking with the strain, his face flushed and lax with passion.  All while, asking possibly the stupidest question he had ever asked.

“Yeah.  Soo, so okay...no words…”

Oliver dropped to his elbows and Felicity arched at the delicious sensation of her bare chest coming in contact with his.  It wasn’t the first time.  There had been a lot of naked in the last week and half.  But it had never felt like this.  _Nothing_ had _ever_ felt like this, like every point of contact, every inch of skin was alive, buzzing, melting with pleasure. 

He started to rock and Felicity cried out, arching and wrapping her legs around Oliver’s hips.  Her hands found his back and shoulders, but her muscles were barely working, she couldn’t hold on as tightly as she wanted, her limbs were already lax with pleasure. 

Oliver leaned down to kiss her and Felicity tried, oh, she tried, to kiss him back, but could barely find the strength, never mind the coordination.  The result was messy and graceless, a jumble of lips and tongue and teeth.  But she loved every second of it.

It didn’t last, even the messy kiss was too much for Felicity to manage.  All she could do was ride the waves of bliss as Oliver, her love, her mate… moved over her.  It felt like so much more than having sex or even making love.  It… 

Felicity wanted to merge.  She wanted him to feel what she felt.  She wanted to stay in this state forever.  Together.  She hooked her ankles together above his pumping ass and ran her lips sloppily over Oliver’s cheek and chin, before latching onto his collar bone, sucking and biting, vaguely wondering if it were even possible to leave a mark anymore.

Oliver’s hands worked their way under Felicity’s back and hip, managing to bring them even closer together and their sweat slicked bodies seemed to increase the perception of their bodies fusing.  His mouth was open on her temple and the combinations of growls and groans were the sexiest thing she had ever heard.  

And the smell.  Dear lord, the smell.  It intensified everything.  Filled her mouth and lungs, increasing the feeling of being consumed by Oliver.  It made everything sharper, more powerful.

Then, just when Felicity had decided that nothing on this earth could feel better than this, her orgasm crashed into her like a tidal wave in a rush of pleasure so intense it would have been painful, if it wasn’t so fucking gooood.

Felicity lost all control over her body, arching and bucking, a scream tearing from her throat unlike anything she had ever voiced before.  Her vision whited out and the only thought that existed in her normally busy brain was Oliver. Oliver. Oliver. Oliver.

When she was finally able to think again, Felicity had no idea if she had said his name out loud or not, but she blinked her vision clear to see Oliver staring down at her with a look of complete awe. 

And delirium. 

And barely restrained power.

With effort, she managed to smile at him.  Felicity’s facial muscles were still slack with pleasure, her voice raw, when she whispered, “I love you so much.”

Oliver growled and she knew it was involuntary.  His back arched and he slammed into her. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, as satisfying. Yet, all Felicity wanted was for him to do it again. And again and again…

“Oh God, I can’t…” Oliver rasped and Felicity could see his muscles shake as he tried to hold himself back.

“It’s fine.  Good even.  Great,” Felicity murmured, bringing a shaky hand to his face and wiping away the sweat.   “I love all of you.  Don’t hold back.  You can’t hurt me.”

That primal look was back, even stronger than before.  Oliver’s bared his teeth and Felicity could tell the exact moment when he gave in, when the string snapped and he let instinct take over.   There was no higher thought left behind his hooded and unfocused eyes, just mindless need.

And Felicity _loved_ it.  Oliver pounded into her and it could have been too rough.  He was damn strong and she should be over sensitive from the orgasm she just had.  But it couldn’t have felt more amazing.  Magnificent.  Spiritual, even. 

“Mine,” Oliver hissed above her.

“Yes.”  Felicity didn’t even think as she responded.  A far distant part of her felt like she should protest.  That she shouldn’t want to be claimed or owned or…but she knew it wasn’t like that.  This wasn’t about being owned…but she was his.  And he was hers.  “ _Yes_.”

“Mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine.”  Oliver roared his climax and the beast that emerged was the most beautiful thing Felicity had ever seen. 

Oliver collapsed on top of her and despite the weight and Felicity’s oversensitive skin, she thought she might be content to stay like that forever, with Oliver struggling to catch his breath in her ear and smelling like heaven and sex, holding her tight as she floated in… _ecstasy_. 

Was that too strong a word?  Because Felicity kinda always thought that it was a word that could only be used sarcastically or in a clear exaggeration…but no, this was ecstasy.  There was no other word for it.

As Felicity’s body hummed its contentment, her brain somehow came back online and, wow…did that just happen?  Not just the sex, which was well beyond _wow_ , but the ‘I love you’s and the promises and all of it was… unexpected.

If Felicity were going to be honest with herself, the sex had been almost inevitable since they had gotten to this God forsaken island.  It was the fallout of that sex that she had been sorta kinda dreading.  Because she really hadn’t expected Oliver to all commitment and love on her first.

And that was… _so_ much _better_ than anything Felicity could have even imagined.  Like in a million years.  And she had a really incredible imagination.  It almost made her question if this was really happening, but Felicity had gone down that particular road so many times in the last two weeks that it made her dizzy.  She was just not going there again.

Besides, this warm, heavy armful of perfect man lying limp and sweaty on top of her was possibly the most real thing Felicity had ever experienced.  And the best.

And it was all because a group of psychopaths kidnapped them and messed with their DNA.  Yup, this was her life.  The most beautiful experience Felicity had ever had was because a crazy cult was trying make them into super soldiers.

Okay, no.  Felicity was going to think about that later.  Right now, she was going to enjoy this.  The Wakados had taken enough from them, they couldn’t have this.  This belonged to her and Oliver alone.

Felicity ran her hand over Oliver’s now flawless back.  He was still so big inside her.  Like huge, actually.  She was a little overcome before, but, wow, he felt even bigger than he looked.  Not that she had stared or anything, but…she clenched around him, making a shockwave of pleasure spiral through her core and spread through her entire body.  Oh wow.  He was really big.  Like really.  Like really wow.

Oliver groaned at her actions, grinding into her almost reflexively, it seemed, as he lifted his head and blinked at her, making Felicity wonder if he had actually passed out and was just now waking up.  He licked his lips and Felicity smiled, feeling _exactly_ like a besotted idiot.

“Hey,” Oliver whispered, his voice like sandpaper.  Very, very sexy sandpaper.  His eyes were still slightly unfocused.

A giggle escaped and it was from sheer happiness, which was absurd given the circumstances, but Felicity had never felt better in her life.  “Hey, yourself.”

Again, with the beautiful lip licking thing.  Was Felicity allowed to join in now?  Oliver cleared his throat. “That was…?”

“Spectacular?”  Felicity supplied happily, only too glad to help now that she seemed to be the clearer one.

“Yeah,” Oliver huffed, his lip quirking.  “You still—”

“Love you?  Yeah.”

Oliver laughed, a smile unlike one Felicity had ever seen on him spreading across his gorgeous face.  “I was going to ask if you were still okay, but that works, too.”  He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then shifted as if he were going to get off her.

Before Felicity could protest and pull him back, Oliver froze, his eyes widening with something like panic.

“What?” Felicity asked, though what she really wanted to know is where he thought he was going.

Oliver yanked his hips back from hers and… “Oh… _wow_ …”  Felicity’s back bowed.  That was just amazing.  That was so gooood. He tried again and it was even better.  She was so full…

“Oh my God!”

Through the haze of pleasure, Felicity forced herself to open her eyes to see Oliver staring down at her, panic stricken.  “Felicity, I think I’m _stuck_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you love this chapter as much as I do. (Super modest, I know). Honestly, if you didn’t like it, I would go ahead and sign off now. You’re probably not going to like it going forward. 
> 
> If you are concerned about the ABO, I can reassure you that my particular Omegaverse does _not_ feature any subjugation of the Omegas. Alpha and Omegas are complete equals, y two halves of a puzzle, Yin and Yang (insert gif here). 
> 
> I do have a further explanation of my Omegaverse here: http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/Omega Verse
> 
> It took a huge push to have seven weeks of updates in a row to get through the minihiatus. But we did it, yay! (I’m sure my husband is less thrilled). I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the support of **ireland1733, and dontyou-forgetaboutme89.** And the hard work of my Beta **fairytalehearts.** Thank you all so much! 
> 
> The bad news is that in the last push to get this out, nothing new has been started. Not another word has been written in this story. I have a few days off this week, so I hope to get a lot done on Chapter 8, but I don’t anticipate an update again until early or mid-April. 
> 
> I’ll keep people updated as to the progress on my Tumblr. Feel free to follow me there (I don’t post much, just reblog Olicity gifs and news and put out updates on my fic). Don’t forget to leave your thoughts and kudos! 
> 
> Happy reading, 
> 
> Emmy


	8. Stuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If ever he had cause to doubt his self-control, his self-discipline, Oliver would remind himself of this moment.  Of this entire fucking _day_.

Because never had there been a greater act of self-sacrifice and will-power than _not_ burying himself inside Felicity the second he walked into that cursed room.   

Even if Oliver hadn’t been drugged and experimented on, even if Felicity hadn’t smelled like perfection, like an aphrodisiac created especially for him…which in some bizarre way that was _exactly_ the case…  Even if he were of perfectly healthy and sound mind…

Felicity lying naked and begging, flushed and gorgeous and…did they know that _alone_ would have been enough to tempt Oliver to sell his soul?

It was every fantasy and desire personified.  And those words… Did Felicity _know_ those words… “I need you inside me,” was the fucking sexiest phrase to ever leave a woman’s mouth?

Particularly, _this_ woman, the woman he was in love with.  The woman Oliver had resigned himself to never having.  To him, the combination was damn near irresistible. 

Oliver had no idea how he did.  Resist.  If his need to protect Felicity hadn’t been as strong as his need to claim her, maybe he wouldn’t have. 

Or maybe Oliver was giving himself too much credit.  Because fear was as much a part of this as anything else.  And the idea that Felicity was going to wake up and regret this, or God-forbid look at him in disgust and fear, as the man who had violated…who had _raped_ her…

Oliver would rather die.

He appeared to be acting nobly, he knew, insisting that Felicity consent, insisting that she knew what that meant.  But, truly, it was selfish on Oliver’s part.  He had to know that she didn’t… _wouldn’t_ regret this.

And that Felicity actually wanted _him_.  Oliver.  Not for the night, but for _real_ , and for as long as they could make it work.  Forever, if he had his way.

Oliver thought she did.  Want him, that is.  Or at least wanted to give them a chance.  But this wasn’t exactly asking Felicity out to a fancy Italian Restaurant.  And as little as sex had meant to him in the past, this time it really _was_ a point of no return for him. 

In this blank empty room, Oliver had nothing.  Nothing to give but promises of commitment and ‘I love you’s.  And he gave them gladly.  Easily.  So much more easily than anyone would have expected of him, especially himself.  But they were real.  The realest thing in his life.  They were promises Oliver had wanted to give for a long time now.

But how could Felicity even know that?  The state she was in…so not herself mentally or emotionally, her brilliant mind clouded…   Oliver did his best to protect them.  Both of them.  Their hearts.  Their relationship.  It wasn’t enough, but he tried his damnedest.

Oliver even went so far as to swear that he wouldn’t take her… _make love_ to her, if she wasn’t sure.  He made a promise that he _wanted_ to be able to keep, not having any idea if he actually could.  

The joke was Oliver really didn’t think he was going to be able to hold himself back for much longer.  All his grand vows of showers and promised orgasms.  Even as he said them, he knew it wouldn’t work.  His control was already slipping.  It barely held on for the few minutes it took to  have a half-way decent conversation. 

The pheromones had a way of washing away conscious thought.  Oliver fought to hold onto them, but they were slipperier than oil and kept melting through his fingers.  Leaving only instinct.  Pure, simple animal drives. 

Protect.

Claim.

Felicity.

When Oliver let go, even for the briefest moment, those were the only words that formed in his mind.  Everything else was feelings.  Action.  Mindless need. Feral impulses.

Maybe love was in there too.  No, love was _definitely_ a big part of it, but it took the form of a primal obsessive _need_.

Oliver offered self-sacrifice as a mask for his own need for reassurance and, as she always did, Felicity gave him exactly the words he craved.  She would always understand his needs, understand _him_ , better than Oliver, himself, did.  He didn’t know if he could ever repay that gift.

Yet, Oliver _needed_ her. _That_ he knew with absolute certainty, and Oliver was _so_ afraid that one misstep here and he would lose Felicity forever.

But, instead, Felicity said she loved him and it was the sweetest thing Oliver had ever heard, sweeter than her moans of pleasure, which were just the _most_ phenomenal thing. 

Oliver wasn’t entirely sure he believed her.  Well, of course, he _believed_ she was telling the truth.  Felicity would never lie about such a thing.  He knew that.  He didn’t even think it was influenced by drugs or Heat or pheromones.

No, Oliver’s fear was that Felicity was in love with the man she _thought_ he was.  He wanted so much to be that man, but…Felicity knew him better than anyone on the planet, yet there was still so much that she didn’t know.

And all of _that_ was ugly and dark.  Evil, even.  Sometimes, Oliver seriously worried that there was a darkness buried deep inside him, that he had been infected on Lian Yu, and that he could never fully expunge it.

That was why Oliver hadn’t ever really believed he had a chance with Felicity.  Eventually, she would find those dark, evil places, the way she seemed to be able to find out everything else about him, and when she did, then…well, Oliver really didn’t know how he was going to survive the ‘then.’

But Oliver had no choice now.  The assholes who took them had left them only one way out.  _Through_.

Oliver had no idea if he was capable of being the boyfriend that Felicity deserved, never mind the man she thought he could be.  But all he could do now was devote everything he had to being that person.

Later, Oliver would wonder how he had even thought clearly enough to form these conclusions.  It must have been the fear.  Fear was always his greatest asset.  It made him sharp and clear-headed.  It was why Oliver had stopped eating.  The hunger was something he could ignore, but the fear was something he needed. 

But then, Felicity was telling him she loved him and wrapping her muscular calf around Oliver’s thigh and pulling him closer… and it was impossible to be afraid of _anything_.  To even remember what fear was.  All he could remember was how much he loved her.

Then Felicity was telling him to forget foreplay and did she _know_ how much of a fucking turn-on that was?  Before he could even process it, Oliver was inside her and…Jesus _Christ_ , it was incredible.  Spiritual. 

Oliver’s body vibrated with pleasure.  Hummed with desire.  Throbbed with the need to merge…to become one person.

And that was something Oliver had never even _imagined_ wanting before.  Sex was about pleasure.  Not about ‘becoming one’.  It was a concept that he and Tommy had sniggered about in middle school.  Behind the bleachers after Varsity Lacrosse.  And, again, high as a kite in the back room of a frat house.

God, it hurt to think about what utter morons they had been. 

This.  _This_.  What was happening between Oliver and Felicity in that _very moment_ was what every human being should aspire to.  A feeling of absolute connection.  It was perfection.

It was intoxicating and _so_ hard not to become a mindless animal, to do nothing but feel and act on instinct.  It took everything Oliver had to stay focused on the woman beneath him, to make sure he wasn’t hurting her, make sure that Felicity felt at least a _fraction_ of what he felt…

But, fuck, his efforts had never been more rewarded.  Oliver had never seen anything so…there was nothing in the universe as beautiful as this completely together, in-control woman totally overcome with pleasure.  Pleasure Oliver was at least _partially_ responsible for.  He could watch it every second of every day and it would be worth any sacrifice he would have to make.

It made Oliver feel proud and alive and _worthy_ , in a way he never had before.  He knew that Felicity was hyped up on hormones or pheromones or whatever, but it _felt_ like it was _him_ giving this perfect woman this perfect pleasure. 

Then Felicity was looking up at him with adoration in her sky-blue eyes and words of love on her lips and Oliver was afraid again.  Afraid of the Beast he’d been pushing back, that was now far too close to the surface.  His muscles coiled as he fought it.  This wasn’t a fight he knew he could win.  But if he let go and hurt her, or, God forbid, _lost_ her as a result…how he could risk it?

“It’s fine.” Felicity murmured, her soft hand on Oliver’s face, grounding him, pulling him back into himself, bit by bit.  “Good even.  Great. I love all of you.”  And just as Oliver decided he could and _would_ control himself, _for her_ , she added, “Don’t hold back.  You can’t hurt me.”

Felicity was too perfect for the Beast, but her words released him all the same, allowed him to roar to life. 

Protect…Claim…Felicity… Protect…Claim…Felicity… Need…Claim…Felicity…Claim… _Mine_!

The Beast took over and Oliver forgot about chivalry and consent and gentleness.  About romance and first times and expectations.  He forgot everything.  Soon, the only words that were able to form in his mind were ‘Felicity’ and ‘Mine’.  He was an inferno of instinct and pleasure.  Pleasure beyond anything he had ever felt before.

Felicity around him.  Under him.  Her smell, her essence, filling his lungs.

When Oliver finally came, he felt it everywhere, not just in his cock, not just his pelvis and spine …but _everywhere_.  His vision whited out.  Again, something Oliver would have sworn was a myth.  And, then, _nothing_. 

Oliver didn’t realize until later, when awareness crept back, until he had been seduced back to consciousness by Felicity wiggling beneath him and clenching around him, making another shock of pleasure spiral through his body, that he had passed out.

Oliver Queen did _not_ pass out from sex.  It just didn’t happen.

Yet, apparently, it had.  And Oliver was a little bit disgusted with himself.  But when he leveraged himself up and looked down at Felicity, who was looking up at him like happiness and sunshine personified, and…anything resembling a bad feeling evaporated. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

Somehow, Felicity’s smile widened and a soft giggle escaped her mouth, sending pinpricks of pleasure over Oliver’s skin.

Oliver tried to clear his head and say something coherent, but his brain was filled with warm, happy, blissed-out cotton-candy.  Still, he need to check in.  He’d gone a little wild man there at the end and he could have hurt her.  Felicity didn’t _look_ hurt, but still…

“That was…?”

“Spectacular?” 

Felicity’s response filled him with pride and Oliver felt a smile as big as her own over take his face.  “Yeah.”  This feeling.  _Now_.  It was almost better than the sex.  “You still—”

“Love you?  Yeah.”

Oliver laughed.  Felicity really _did_ always say the perfect thing.  This perfect woman of his. 

The voice in the back of his head that was still screaming ‘ _mine.’_    That no one could ever take her from him again.  He wouldn’t allow it.

But Oliver forcibly pushed his caveman thoughts aside and let Felicity’s gaze fill him with warm contentment instead.  “I was going to ask if you were still _okay_ , but that works too.” 

Then Oliver realized that he was lying completely on top of her tiny frame, all 200lbs of him, for God knows how long, since he'd gone pathetically unconscious there.   And as blissfully post coital as she appeared, there was no way he _wasn't_ crushing her.  He pressed a soft kiss to her lips in apology and…

But as he shifted his hips back, Felicity went with him.  At first, Oliver just thought she must be clinging to him like a limpet.  So, he tried again, but where he should have slid out easily, as wet and slick as he knew she was, Oliver didn’t move. His cock just would _not_ budge. 

He yanked as hard as he dared, afraid of hurting her, but, again, Felicity’s body just moved with him. Oliver’s heart started to pound as he realized what was happening.

Those fucking _bastards_ had done something.  Something that seriously messed with the one piece of anatomy that every man held sacred.  Jesus _Christ_.

 “Felicity, I think I’m _stuck_!”

“What?”  Felicity just blinked up at him for a moment, her head tilted to the side adorably.  Clearly having no _idea_ the enormity of the crisis.

Oliver had to tell himself to breathe.  It was becoming increasingly difficult to do so.  “I’m _stuck_.  Inside you.”

Felicity shook her head in confusion.  For a brilliant woman, she was being rather slow on the uptake.  “I don’t—”

“ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver snapped, unable to keep the bite from his voice.  “I _can’t_ get my cock out of your vagina.”

Her eyes widened and Oliver could see the exact moment when she understood.  Because Felicity started to giggle, gasping, “Seriously?”

Goddamn it!  Oliver really needed _his_ Felicity right now.  Smart and focused and good in a crisis.  “It’s not exactly something I would joke about.” 

And still Felicity giggled.  Of all the times for her to get _giggly_ , it had to be when Oliver was having a real-life castration nightmare!

“Felicity, this really isn’t funny.  They _did_ something!”  Oliver could feel the panic bubbling up from his gut, spiraling and getting bigger, racing through his thoughts and making him feel trapped.  He hadn’t felt anxiety like this in years. 

“Fucking bastards.  Who the hell fucks with a guy’s dick.” Oliver muttered, more to himself then anything.

Felicity had been trying to control herself, Oliver could tell, but at his last deranged words a full laugh burst from her pierced lips and Oliver didn’t know if he was angrier at her for not understanding or himself for ranting like a lunatic.

But Oliver knew he was just lashing out, something he tried very hard not to do to Felicity.     But not only were the people the rage was aimed at unavailable, the fact that he couldn’t do _anything_ just made the entire thing worse.  The only options he had were to rage at her or…what options did he have?

“ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver groaned, “if it won’t come out, someone will have to…” 

Oliver broke off as thoughts of needles and shots in places no needle should ever be flashed through his mind.  Needles and knives and blood no longer bothered him, but…he knew a guy in college who’d taken too much Viagra and they’d had to….

Blood rushed to Oliver’s head.  He couldn’t catch his fucking breath.

“Okay, okay,” Felicity started to murmur, all traces of amusement _finally_ gone as her voice turned calm and serious.   “Oliver, you need to calm down.”

Now, _he_ almost laughed.  Didn’t Felicity know that if he could calm the fuck down, he’d _calm the fuck down_?  Oliver hated feeling this out of control.  It was the worst.  But lashing out at Felicity was worse than the worst, so…

Felicity tightened her legs around Oliver’s flank and he could feel her hands pushing him over, but it took him a minute to realize that she wanted him to roll onto his back.   Probably didn’t want 200lbs of freaked out idiot on top of her.  Undoubtedly, a good call.  

Oliver had to get his shit together, before one of them got hurt.  He couldn’t forget he was _attached_ to Felicity.  If he lost it, he could hurt her.

Through the waves of panic and the hyperventilation that was, frankly, putting him far too close to passing out again, Oliver managed to do as Felicity wanted.  Closing his arms around her, he flipped onto his back, bringing her above him, not disturbing their connection in the slightest.  Which was the _fucking problem_.

Felicity shifted so that she was leaning over him, her soft hands braced against his pecs, one directly over his heart.  The pressure should have increased the feeling of suffocation, but, strangely it helped.

“Hey!  Look at me,” Felicity commanded in a voice that Oliver had always found almost impossible _not_ to obey.  “Watch my breaths, okay?”

Oliver managed to nod.  One quick jerk of his head.  Though, he had no idea if he could do as she asked, never mind if it would help. He wasn’t sure of anything.  No, that wasn’t fair.  He was sure of Felicity and that was what made him look her in the eyes and follow her instructions. 

Taking one of his hands, Felicity placed it on her chest, right above her left breast and Oliver had a fleeting thought that this was _not_ how he had imagined groping her bare breasts for the first time.  Because even though he was _stuck_ inside her, he still hadn’t _really_ touched them.  How messed up was that?

“Hear my heart?  Can you feel my breathing?”

Oliver wasn’t sure if it was Felicity’s instructions or the distraction of her gorgeous breasts, but his breathing started to regulate and he nodded more confidently.

“Focus on me,” Felicity told him in a slow, almost hypnotic voice and that he could do, because…Felicity.  “Try to match my breathing.”

Watching her chest rise and fall just made his mouth water and while it was working to distract him from the panic, it felt a little disrespectful to the efforts Felicity was making to help him, so Oliver forced himself to bring his eyes to her lips.  That wasn’t much better.  Now the Beast was dragging him down to sexy-thoughts again.  This was insane.  He was losing his mind.

Oliver wasn’t able to consciously match her breathing, but he became mesmerized by Felicity’s lips and her voice and focused on them until everything else faded away.  Before he knew it, they were breathing in sync.  In fact, their hearts were beating together.  Kinda freaky.  But good.  Good freaky. 

And the Beast liked it, too.  The Beast wanted to curl up in Felicity’s lap and take a nap, all while bathing in her scent. 

“Better?” Felicity finally asked.

 Oliver huffed out a short, brittle laugh, “Yeah.  Thank you.” 

Running his hand up from when it lay on her chest, Oliver caressed the length of her neck, pausing to cup her cheek and run his thumb over the lips.  Felicity pressed a kiss to his thumb, allowing him to smile.  She rubbed his chest and Oliver, actually, _finally_ , felt himself relax.

Felicity smiled back.  “Alright, now about this little _side effect_ —” 

That snapped Oliver out of his hypnotic, oxygen-derived daze and he frowned up at her.  “Side effect?!  This isn’t a headache or a sour stomach, Felicity!”

But instead of agreeing, or arguing, Felicity sat on top of him with her lips pierced together until out popped this odd little hiccup sound that… ended in _another_ giggle. 

“Argh!” Oliver’s head fell back and his eyes closed.  “It’s _not_ funny.”  Just when he thought his brilliant partner back at full capacity.

Felicity tried to control herself.  He’d give her that much.  But even with a hand over her mouth that fucking musical laughter burst through.  And that laughter made the Beast purr.  It was hard to stay angry with a goddess on top of him and a contented Beast within.

Finally, Felicity gave up, saying, “It’s a _little bit_ funny.  Come on, Oliver, after all the angst, all the ‘should we or shouldn’t we’… we’re _stuck together_!”

Oliver rolled his eyes, but it was mostly for show, because it was becoming more and more difficult to be annoyed.  And, maybe, there _was_ some humor in the situation.  As long as they could figure out a solution that didn’t involve medical equipment being used on his penis.

His hands came up to run over Felicity’s back and sides.  “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Oliver finally murmured, his eyes fixated on the wall beyond her.

“Quite the opposite, actually.”

That made Oliver’s eyes fly back to hers.  Felicity sat there.   Mounted on top of him.  Pretty as you please, looking like a sex deity.  And _not_ looking anything but pleased with this entire mess.

Oliver shook his head in wonder.  “What’s the opposite?”

Felicity gave him her patented ‘are you an idiot?’ look, which generally Oliver hated, but in this case he let it slide, because she rotated her hips saying, “Uhhh…it feels _incredible_.  Mmmm.”

Gritting his teeth against the shock of sensation, Oliver’s hands fell to her hips, trying to still the motion.  “Sweet, I need to try to get you off.  I don’t think starting all over again is going to help.”

“Why not?”

“Felicity—”

“No, listen,” she insisted, her hips still moving in tiny little circles.  Felicity’s eyes were bright and intelligent, though, so Oliver did as she asked.  “It’s actually a good plan.  I mean maybe you just need to…eh…come.  Again.  Then you’ll get soft and—”

“Felicity,” Oliver sighed, exasperated, “I’ve never come so hard in my life.  I don’t think that is the solution.”

A grin that could only be described as ‘shit eating’ spread across Felicity’s face.  She dropped down to her elbows and gave him a sweet, distracting kiss, humming happily against his lips, “It was rather marvelous, wasn’t it?”

Oliver shook his head.  Her focus was rather terrible at the moment.  Yet, he couldn’t control his smile or the hands that seemed to want to stroke every inch of her.  “Fel-ic- _ity_ …”

Sitting up again, Felicity dragged her nails along his chest, sending tiny splinters of pleasure scattering over Oliver’s skin and giving him another fantastic view of those spectacular breasts he still hadn’t…  “Well, maybe you need to come _again_.   Like a second time and if that doesn’t work we can try a third and a fourth—”

“Felicity!”  Oliver interrupted with a laugh.  He really wished the solution was that easy.  And pleasurable.  Because even though he felt… _large_ inside of her, it didn’t feel at all the same as being primed and ready to go.  “It feels like…like I’m suspended in the place right after I come.  Honestly, I really don’t think I _could_ have an orgasm right now.” Having this conversation with Felicity was nothing short of surreal.  

Felicity’s eyes lit up.  “Really?  What does it feel like?” She bit her lip and her eyes did that pleading thing.  She didn’t play fair.

“Dunno,” Oliver grunted.  Wasn’t it enough that he had talked more about his feelings in the last 24 hours than in what was possibly his entire life, did Felicity have to ask for more?    “Warm and pleasant.  Not frantic and needy.”

“Mmmm,” Felicity hummed, her hips making a circular motion, clearly excited by his words. Though, Oliver had no clue how _that_ was a turn on.  Not that he was complaining.

“I take it you don’t feel the same way,” Oliver drawled.

If she heard it, Felicity flat out ignored Oliver’s sarcasm.  “Oh no.  I could go and go...” Felicity grinded a little harder, her eyes rolling back.  Apparently, she was well on her way to that second, third, forth…

He forced her hips to stop again, slightly more firmly this time.  “Felicity.  Focus, Sweet.”  Oliver squeezed her thighs for emphasis.  She was gorgeous, though.  And he really couldn’t believe he was trying to _stop_ her from riding him with abandon.   

“Okay.  Yeah, focus,” Felicity said, but it seemed more like she was talking to herself than Oliver.   Her eyes had started to get cloudy and her breasts had started to flush a rosy color that almost shimmered in the dim lights…alright, they really needed to figure this out before he lost his head as well.

“Felicity,” Oliver said as gently and firmly as he could manage.  “Try to lift yourself off.  Stop if it hurts.”

Her response was a laugh, high and breathy as Felicity continued to squirm.  “I really can’t imagine it _hurting_.”

Christ.  She really was going to be the death of him.  Didn’t she understand that if they tried to disengage too roughly she could tear.  The idea of seeing her blood made Oliver nauseous.  “Felicity, you could…  You’re… _delicate_ down there.”

Felicity’s smile bordered on condescending, but she gave him a lingering kiss, whispering, “You’re a dear,” against his lips, so Oliver forgot to care.  “Okay, let’s do this.”

Sitting straight up, Felicity started to pull herself up.  But, unfortunately, not off.  Oliver resisted the upward pull, careful to only to resist so much, not wanting to force the issue and hurt her.

“Oh _God_!” Felicity gasped and Oliver’s heart slammed back into his throat.

Grabbing Felicity’s hips, Oliver quickly pulled her back down until she was fully seated again.  “What happened?  Did it hurt?  Are you—”

“Oh no, no no no…” Felicity whimpered, her head rolling on her shoulders and a slow smile…

Oh crap.  That was a sensual stretch. And Felicity’s eyes were blown again.  The only place this was going was headlong into round two.

“Felicity…”

“Oliver, you have no idea how _gooooood_ it feels.”

Her hips were moving again and it felt great, even if he didn’t think he could come again and Felicity was beautiful and the more turned on she got, the better she smelled, but… swallowing, Oliver urged, “Come on, Sweet, try again for me.”

Felicity nodded, somewhat sloppily.   As she lifted again, her nether regions started to pull around his cock.  Her face, again, contorted in pleasure and she let out a long, low moan.

Oliver clenched his hands, biting back a groan of frustration.  No _way_ was this going to work.  Felicity wasn’t coming off without a significant amount of force and that was not something he was willing to do, not with these particular parts of their anatomy at risk.

“Felicity, you can stop,” Oliver sighed as she tried to lift herself again, though at this point it looked more like she was riding him than trying to get off.  He got another uncoordinated nod, but her hips couldn’t seem to keep from undulating.  His brilliant, single-minded girlfriend had turned into a single-minded _sex kitten_ and he couldn’t even enjoy it… and, Christ, she was his _girlfriend_ now.  Wasn’t _that_ something?

“Try to hold still.”  Oliver reached down to where they were joined and ran his finger around the edge.

“Ohhh…Ohh… Oliverrrr…” Felicity arched her back, pushing into his touch.  “What are you _doing_?” 

“Trying to figure out exactly what’s going on down here,” Oliver murmured.  “Felicity, I’m going to try to slip my finger in and see what the problem is.”  Of _course_ , her response was a giggle.  Not exactly reassuring.  “Just tell me if it’s too much or if it hurts.”

“Uh huh.  Go for it,” Felicity hummed, seemingly enjoying herself.

Oliver carefully slipped the tip of his finger between them and into Felicity’s warm heat, amazed at how easily she was stretching to accommodate the extra girth.

“Mmmm, still the opposite of hurting,” Felicity gasped, her hips jerking.

Taking this as permission or, more accurately, encouragement, Oliver allowed his forefinger to push between his cock and her hot channel, keeping his other hand firmly around her waist to minimize her movement as Felicity was rapidly losing control again. 

Just as Oliver had feared, his cock flared on the inside, trapping him there.  His heart rate accelerated, and not in a good way, just imagining what might be going on.  How freakishly malformed his dick must be. 

It was probably ridiculous that, given everything he and his body had been through, that he was whining about someone messing with his penis.  But, shit, now of all times?  Just when he found the love of his life?   _This_ was when some wako messes with his genitalia?  It was perhaps the cruelest thing he’d experienced.

“What does it feel like?” said love of his life panted, leaning back to grip Oliver’s thighs.  Maybe he was over-reacting.  Felicity certainly didn’t seem upset by the situation.

Oliver swallowed, his eyes flickering between the hand still buried between them and the one whose thumb was wandering up, of it’s own free will, to brush the underside of Felicity’s breasts.

“Hmm?” Oliver muttered, not really sure what she was talking about.  “Hot?  Warm?”

“No.  Not _me_ ,” Felicity chuckled.  “You.  Your cock, I mean.  Does it feel swollen?  Does it hurt?”

Oh. “No.  it…it just feels bigger, I guess.”  Now that Felicity mentioned it, Oliver should probably count his blessings.   He was pretty sure Viagra boy’s junk had hurt like hell.  That was a good sign, right?  That maybe, nothing would have to be…drained? 

“Too bad,” Felicity sighed, then self-corrected, “not too bad that it doesn’t hurt.  Of course, I don’t want it to _hurt_.  I just…I wish it felt as good for you as it does for me.  Because it feels—”

Oliver sighed, suppressing a smile.  “Felicity, sweet, you’re babbling.”

Felicity’s eyes cracked open a little more and she stared down at him, her lower lip caught between her white teeth.  “Is that a problem?”

Never.  “Only in that I really need your incredible brain right now.”  And it was becoming increasingly clear that Oliver’s plan, if you could even call it that, was not working.

“Then, mmm,” she clenched around his fingers, his cock.  “Then you should probably stop doing _that_.”  Felicity gestured to where his fingers lingered on their joined bodies, all while throwing her head back with a groan and pushing into him.

Oliver chuckled to himself, shaking his head.  Time for plan C.  At least this one was going to be fun. 

Instead of withdrawing his fingers, Oliver merely slid them around their joining until his thumb was resting on her clit and pressed.

“Uhhh!” Felicity yelped, her eyes rolling back.  “Oliver, _what_ are you doing?”

“Plan C,” Oliver grinned, relaxing back, allowing himself to actually enjoy her reactions.  They could worry about being stuck when Felicity was more coherent.

“Is that…?” Gasp. “Oh…  What…” Moan.  Squirm.  “What plan we’re on?”  Felicity’s reactions were nothing short of breathtaking. 

“No idea.  Does it matter?” 

Felicity’s head shake was eager to say the least.  “Though, not sure how this is going to, umph—”

She squealed as Oliver brought his other hand up to cup her breast the way he’d been itching to, finally savoring the smooth flesh.  He really wanted to taste her, but she was leaning back, her hands braced on his thighs as she rode him as well as she could given the tight connection.

“I’m trying to clear your head,” Oliver explained, unconsciously licking his lips, since none of _her_ was close enough to lick.  “Sometimes, the only way out is through.”   Of all the times he’d used that phrase, this was quickly becoming his favorite.

The thumb from the hand caressing her breast found her nipple and started to first rub, then flick in tandem with the thumb on her clit and Felicity screamed, making Oliver smile just a little bit smugly.  Yup, this was definitely more fun.

Felicity tossed her hair and rolled her eyes at him.  “Bastard,” she panted.  But when he did it again, she all but yelled, “God, how I love you,” making Oliver laugh out loud.

This was how Oliver imagined being with Felicity would be.  Well, not the crazy science experiments and genitalia deformities.  But the passion and the fun and the affection.  Laughing and loving and _all_ of it. 

Somehow, Oliver had known everything would be different with Felicity.  Better.  _This_ was what he had been craving since he walked into her cubical.  He’d always known, on some level, with Felicity, even hell could be wonderful.

Her breast was the perfect handful.  Her nipple taut and sensitive, and when Oliver pinched it, it was all Felicity needed to have her stiffen and scream, a sound that could have been his name torn from her lips as she clenched around him.

It would probably be enough to get him ready to go again, under any normal circumstances.    _If_ Oliver’s cock hadn’t turned into a goddamn bloated watermelon inside her, refusing to behave normally.

Felicity collapsed bonelessly on top of him.  Oliver stroked her back and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, trying to focus on her.  After all, she was more important than his damn cock.  He had to keep reminding himself of that.

Yawning, Felicity rubbed her face lazily on his chest like a cat.  “You know what, a nap might help.”

“Help what?” Oliver asked, his hands pausing mid-stroke.  He was really hoping that Felicity would be more lucid now.  Though, that orgasm _did_ look brain melting if he did say so himself. 

“You probably just need time.  To relax.”  Felicity curled her arms under his and rubbed his shoulders.  “In a non-sexy-time way.  I’m sure the…um… _swelling_ , will go down.”

Well, at least Felicity sounded more like…Felicity.  “What makes you think…?” Oliver blew out a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “…the swelling will actually go down on its own?”  He hated how he sounded, like a lost little boy, but, like it or not, he really needed her reassurance right now.

Felicity lifted her chin up and rested it on Oliver’s chest, giving him a supportive smile.  “I can’t imagine they’d want us stuck together indefinitely.  We’d hardly be of any use to them that way.”

There was his brilliant girl. Already, Oliver could feel himself relax.  Nothing was more soothing than Felicity’s logic.  And one of them needed to be thinking clearly and it was always better if it wasn’t him. 

“How do you know that this wasn’t a huge mistake?”  Oliver winced at his own use of the word ‘huge’.  “Science goes wrong all the time, especially when it’s as f—messed up as this is.”  He stared up at the ceiling, clutching her a little too tightly.  He needed her to argue all his worries into the ground.  He _needed_ her to.  “Felicity, what if—?”

“Then they would have gassed us and hauled us off to medical,” Felicity told him matter-of-factly.

It was Felicity’s tone that helped Oliver settle, as did her certainty, her intelligence.  People thought she was the emotional one and he was the logical one, but he often wondered if it wasn’t the opposite. 

Though, Oliver really didn’t like the reminder that someone could be watching and monitoring their most intimate moments.  “Well, _that’s_ reassuring.”  It came out drier than Oliver intended.  He quickly modulated his tone, saying softly, “I’m glad to see you have higher brain functioning back.”

Felicity giggled.  She’d done that more in the last hour then in the entire time since he met her.  Oliver was trying to decide if he liked it.  The answer was probably ‘yes’.  She did it again and she looked so cute and happy laying sprawled over his chest.  The answer was _definitely_ ‘yes’.    

Stretching, Felicity hummed contentedly.  “I’m _relaxed_.”   Folding her arms over his chest and resting her chin on top of her laced fingers, Felicity yawned.  Delicately, like a kitten.  Because nothing she did wasn’t adorable.  “So, maybe if _you_ rest—”

“Felicity, I’m not going to be able to fall asleep.  I can’t until…”  Ugh, Oliver really hated being this crude with her.  He lowered his voice to a hushed tone, as if that would make the words less crass, “Until I know what they did to my cock.”

It may have been the way he whispered the last word that made Felicity let out another giggle, which she quickly muffled.  But, truthfully, Oliver couldn’t blame her.  The whole thing was ridiculous.  He _felt_ ridiculous.  Even the fact that he was having trouble discussing this with her after everything they’d done was ridiculous.  Stupid, even. 

“Right,” Felicity said more seriously, seeming to understand.  Not judging.  Thankfully.

Brushing her hair off her face and sitting up, Felicity’s hand started to beat out a rhythm on his chest with her fingers.  She sometimes did that when she was thinking.  Oliver wondered if it reminded her of typing, the way his hand twitched to have a bow in his hands when he was upset.  One day soon he was going to ask her. 

“Maybe you need to just think of something…unsexy,” Felicity finally proposed, worrying her lip between her teeth.

Oliver snorted. His eyes wandered from her fingers to Felicity’s face, lingering on her breasts.  “How do you propose I _that_?  What with you all…?”  He gestured helplessly at, well, all of her. “…. gorgeous and clenchy.”

Felicity’s eyes crinkled in pleasure, the happy kind, not the sexy kind, and for some reason that was even more satisfying.  Oliver wanted nothing more than to make her happy for the rest of their lives.  Of course, he’d probably be more successful at that if he knew how to get them off this island.

“I’ll try to keep the clenching to a minimum,” Felicity offered with an unrepentant grin.

“I’d appreciate that,” Oliver said seriously, though they both knew he loved it.

“Do you want me to cross my arms?” Felicity demonstrated, folding her arms over her breasts. Somehow, that looked even sexier.  How was that even possible?

“Nope.”

“How about—”

“I can handle your nudity, Felicity,” Oliver argued, because really after this last week and a half that was the least of their problems.  

“Fine.”  Felicity rolled her eyes and tossed her hair.  And, maybe, Oliver couldn’t handle her nudity after all.  “So what do you usually think about when you have an… _inappropriate_ erection?”

An involuntary laugh escaped.  “Excuse me?”

That earned Oliver another eye-roll.  “Come on.  Don’t all guys have a method for getting rid of the occasional inconvenient boner.  What do you think about?  Baseball stats?  Grandma’s wig?  Dead kittens?”

“Dead kittens?” Oliver repeated and Felicity shrugged, making him want to laugh.  Why did the places her mind went make him so…happy?  “Believe it or not, since the Gambit went down, I’ve developed pretty good self-control.  I don’t usually have to resort to mental tricks.”  Control over his body was something he _used_ to be quite proud of.

Tilting her head to the side, Felicity gave him an appraising look.  “Are you saying you haven’t popped a boner without wanting to in _7 years_?” 

It was Oliver’s turn to shrug smugly.  Though it was mostly just to mess with her.  For the most part, it was easy to control your body’s reactions when anger and guilt and survival ruled your day to day existence.

But then a grin spread across Felicity’s face, the kind where Oliver just _knew_ he was in trouble.

“Not in, say, the office?  After someone may have bent down in a tight green skirt—”

“I _knew_ you were doing that on purpose!”  Oliver accused.  Felicity always seemed to bend over just a little more often in that skirt.  And come to think of it, all her skirts got shorter and her heels higher when she became his EA.  He’d reasoned it was because the position demanded it.  But it _felt_ like she was doing it torment him. 

Felicity’s smile was beyond self-satisfied.  She could be such a brat sometimes.  And God help him, Oliver loved it.

Luckily, turnabout was fair play.  “Soooo did _you_ think about dead kittens when I, _say_ , did the Salmon ladder?”

Scrunching her nose up, she blushed a deep red.  Oliver _knew_ he had her with that one.  Felicity countered, “Are you admitting to doing _that_ on purpose now?”

“Of course not.”  It was completely, totally on purpose.  “I was working out.” He always saved Felicity’s favorite exercises, including the ladder, for when she was in the foundry.  Oliver almost laughed out loud at her skeptical expression.  “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t notice the glazed look you got when I did.”  And loved every second of it.

That earned Oliver a slap to his arm.  It hurt not even a smidge, but he cried, “Ow.”  It was good for Felicity’s ego to think it hurt.

“Well, I didn’t have to think about _anything,_ glazed look or not,” Felicity insisted haughtily.  “I just enjoyed the show you were so _obviously_ putting on, secure in the knowledge that a woman’s _inappropriates_ are well hidden.”

Felicity thought she won.  But she forgot one thing.  Oliver leaned up on his elbows, so his nose almost touched her chest, and whispered, “You won’t be able to hide anything now that I know your smell.  I’ll know exactly how _inappropriate_ your thoughts are.”

Felicity pushed him back down with a soft cry of outrage and Oliver knew he’d finally won one.  The blush covered her from head to toe and there was an adorably embarrassed expression on her face.   She came back strong, though, with, “Let’s focus on you here.  How did _you_ calm yourself down when I say, wore the tight stripped dress?”

Oliver’s smile faltered as he remembered exactly that scenario.  “All I had to do was think about all the horrible ways things could end if I acted on my impulses.”  And the sad fact was, that he never even had to try.  It happened instinctively. 

“ _Yeah_...” Felicity frowned, wincing.  “Let’s try dead kittens.”

Ugh, enough with the damn kittens.  This was a dead-end conversation anyway.  It wasn’t doing anything to…reduce the _swelling_.  Oliver tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.  “Felicity, Sweet—”

“Dr. Young messed with our genes,” Felicity blurted out.

“What!” Because… _what_?  Are where did that come from?  And how did Felicity know that?  And, _Jesus_ , that sounded…really…what?!

Oliver’s head jerked up, and his eyes found Felicity avoiding his gaze and biting her lip.  Not in a sexy way, this time.  Fuck. 

But Felicity didn’t even try to avoid Oliver’s question.  “Dr. Young, the crazy genius apparently in charge of this circus…he changed our genes.”

Oliver shook his head.  He’d seen a lot of crazy things, incredible, impossible things, but never this.  How could you even change a gene?  He may have gotten a ‘D’ in Biology but he was pretty sure they were a fixed sort of thing.  “How is that possible?  How do you know—?”

“Amy.”  Felicity forced her eyes back to Oliver’s.  They were troubled.  “She had some time with me before you returned from the last treatment, explained some things.”

“ _Amy_ ,” Oliver scoffed in disgust.  He never thought he could so _strongly_ dislike a little girl.  “And you _believe_ her?”

“I do.”  Then, clearly sensing Oliver’s skepticism, Felicity continued, “I’m fairly certain Amy believes everything she says.  Whether she’s given the correct information or not, who knows?  She’s clearly been brain washed and, well, she even told me that she doesn’t want to be disingenuous, which seemed insane at the time, but I just don’t think she’s programmed to lie and by that—”

“Felicity.  Babbling.” Oliver scrubbed his face, thinking that Felicity was a little too taken in by Amy’s innocent eyes.  She may be a puppet, but it was her master’s words coming out of her mouth and that was dangerous. 

“Right.”  Felicity sighed.  “Yes.  I believe her.  It fits.”

Oliver couldn’t see how.  Though, he trusted Felicity’s judgement better than his own on scientific matters, if not on the intentions of creepy little girls.  “But why?  It makes no sense.  Why would they change our genes?  To fuck with our sex lives?”   They’d have to be some pretty perverted fuckers for that.  It was an awful lot of effort just to get their rocks off.

“Well…”  Felicity winced and, internally, Oliver braced himself.  He knew that look and he knew he wasn’t going to like the next words that came out of her mouth.  “According to Amy, they are trying to make Super Humans.”

Oliver was right.  “What the…?  Super Humans?”  And while that was a much better motive, it was so much worse than just fucking with their sex lives.   “What does that even _mean_?  They want to give us Super Powers?”  Please, not that.  Though, of course, that’s what it meant.  What else could it be?  Shit!  Oliver’s experience with Super Powers…fucking _sucked_!

Felicity shrugged and shook her head.  “I dunno.  I… I haven’t really been able to process it until now.  I certainly wasn’t thinking clearly when Amy told me.  But, I’m thinking it’s kinda like Super-Serum…” She tried for a smile and failed miserably.  “You did say you’ve always wanted to be Captain America.”

Rubbing his hand over his face, Oliver groaned.  “Seriously?”  Just when he thought he’d seen everything.  Real-life, straight out of the comics’ Super-Serum?  Sounded too much like Mirakuru for his taste.  And Slade resembled Captain America _not at all_.

“Yeah, well, clearly we have the advanced healing,” Felicity offered.  He could tell by her voice that she was trying to soothe him by offering something positive.

Oliver tried to act reassured, but all he managed was to grunt, “Well, I guess that comes in handy.”  His eyes found the nonexistent bullet scar on her shoulder.  If Felicity could withstand any and all future bullets as well, well, then that would be more than handy, it would be a goddamn miracle.  Actually cheered, he asked, “Did that… _Amy_ say what other effects we could expect?”

Felicity shook her head, because, of _course_ , the girl gave them only crumbs of information.  And none, Oliver was sure, that her handlers didn’t want them to have.

“Maybe after we’re unstuck you could try to lift the bed with one hand,” Felicity suggested with a hopefully grin, bringing images of a star spangled man holding up a motorcycle with one arm. 

Felicity always fell back on humor.  And, _as always_ , it worked.  The images she painted had Oliver giving her a lopsided smile.  “Or _you_ could?”

Laughing at that, Felicity, again, shook her head.  “I really don’t _feel_ like I could lift a bed.  So far, besides, my suddenly _normal_ eyesight and decreased need to shave my legs, the only Super Power I’ve noticed is my ability to have a Super Orgasm.”

Felicity clapped both hands over her mouth, almost as if she could force the words back in.  Apparently, she hadn’t meant to say that.  Her eyes widened and giggles spilled out from behind her hands. 

Oliver had no idea why _that,_ of all things, embarrassed her.  And, honestly, he wasn’t sure how anyone could possibly be _this_ adorable.  But, cute as Felicity was… 

“None of this explains why I’m stuck.”

Felicity parted her fingers over her mouth just enough for the words, “Super Cock,” to slip out, before she collapsed into guffaws.  “They gave you a _Super Cock_.”

One second, Oliver was shaking his head at her _truly awful_ joke, the next he was laughing as well and it was quickly becoming out of control.  Felicity fell back on top of him, her whole body shaking with mirth.  The only thing left to do was hold her and laugh until tears ran down his face. 

“I really don’t see what purpose a Super Cock could have,” Oliver mused, not realizing he said it out loud until Felicity erupted into another stream of laughter.  Great, now his filters were shot to hell as well.

Finally, Felicity sniffed, brushing the tears off her face and pushing herself up to meet his eyes.  “Seriously though, I think the Super Cock…” She giggled.  Of _course_ , she giggled.  “…is just a side effect.  A happy one, but still.”

“Happy?” Oliver asked, incredulous.  “Felicity, _I’m stuck inside you_!”  He felt like a broken record. 

Felicity shrugged as if it were barely an inconvenience.  “But it feels really _good_ inside me.  I’m sorry, Oliver, I just…I just can’t help but love your Super Cock.”  And there she went, dissolving into more laughter.

“ _Felicity_ …” Oliver groaned.

“Sorry.  I was _trying_ to get our minds _off_ sex.  Kinda hard with Super C…Right.  Okay.  Changing the subject.”  Felicity took a deep, shaky breath, which was only interrupted once with a giggle before she managed to say, “So, on a more serious and _terrifying_ note.  Dr. Young and his young, beautiful, and creepy cronies seemed to have unlocked the whole Alpha/Omega thing totally on accident with their whole Super-Serum, Vita-Ray treatment thing.”

Oliver blinked as he tried to process that.  When what she said actually sunk in, he roared, “ _Accident_!”

“That’s what I said!”

“How the hell do they _accidentally_ turn us into sex starved animals!”

“I said that too!” Felicity agreed, though she looked amazingly calm now.  “Only louder and with more swearing.”

Give him a minute, Oliver was working up to it.  Though, if it had been anyone but Felicity delivering the news he had a feeling that his roars would have been accompanied by some sort of test of any potential Super-Strength. 

“But, apparently, Megalomaniac Nazi-types,” Felicity continued her face twisted with disgust, “don’t really care about minor _accidental_ gene changes in the interest of science.  Apparently, the first versions had some serious hormonal rage issues, until they realized they needed to bring their ‘ _subjects’_ through the process in pairs.”

But then Felicity’s eyes got shifty and immediately Oliver got suspicious.  He knew all her tells.  She started worrying her lip again.  That was another one.

“That caused stability,” Felicity continued to explain, eye contact now a thing of the past.  “Or something…though, Heat feels anything but stable.  _Anyway_ , I was foggy so I don’t remember the details.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes, looking Felicity over carefully. Umm hmmm.  No.  She was _definitely_ hiding something.  “Yes, you do,” he whispered and he was certain he was right.

Felicity’s eyes snapped back.  “What?  _No_.”

“You’re lying,” Oliver accused.  What was she hiding?  And why?

“No,” Felicity protested, piercing her lips and shaking her head.  She certainly wasn’t fooling anyone with her extra cuteness.

“Then you’re leaving something out.”  Oliver wondered how long it would take to break her.  He didn’t think long.

Felicity looked away, clearly unable to meet Oliver’s gaze, but it wasn’t like she could run away and hide in the bathroom, she couldn’t even turn her back on him.  Looked like there was one advantage to this stuck thing, after all.   

But then, Felicity burst out with, “Would you look at that!”

Look at what?  Surely, she didn’t think she could distract him that easily.  “Felicity—”

“No, look.  _Unstuck_!”  Oliver watched with wide, astonished eyes as Felicity lifted herself up and off of him. “It _worked_.  I told you.”

Their bodies separated and Oliver completely forgot whatever it was they were talking about, because, _hallelujah_!  As Felicity moved to kneel next to him, he huffed a relieved laugh.  For a second there, he couldn’t actually believe that it had _worked_.  He had seriously started to worry that more drastic measures would be necessary to separate them. 

Relief made Oliver giddy and wide grin split his face.  “My _genius_!” He shot up and grabbed Felicity’s face, buzzing her with a quick, but passionate kiss.  God, what would he do without her?

Scrambling to sit on the side of the bed, he leaned over to inspect the goods.  If Oliver had a deformed dick, those fuckers had better _hope_ they hadn’t given him Super Powers.

It didn’t look deformed, though.  I looked like a regular dick.  His dick.  Though, maybe…a little thicker and longer?  Oliver hadn’t spent a significant amount time staring at his soft penis since Middle School.  Not that he stared at his _erect_ cock either.   Despite how it must have seemed over the last half-hour or so, he wasn’t _actually_ obsessed with penis. 

Felicity leaned her cheek on his shoulder and it was insanely comforting, that simple touch.  The feeling that he wasn’t alone.  Not in this.  Not in anything, not anymore.  It gave Oliver a strange flutter in his stomach.

“Anything weird?” Felicity asked, gesturing her chin to his cock.

But, ironically, now that it was no longer in danger, Oliver was much more interested in looking at Felicity.  She was lifting her arms to twist her hair up and tie it in a messy knot.  The motion did fantastic things to her breasts.  Hypnotizing things.

“ _What_?” Felicity asked when she caught him staring. “Do I look weird or something?”

Weird?  No, that wasn’t the word he’d use.  Oliver smiled, shaking his head slowly.  “Not at _all_.”  He leaned over to press a kiss to the top of her left breast.

Laughing, Felicity pushed him off.  “None of that.  We’re inspecting your anatomy and not mine.  We need to inspect your cock while it’s still soft, remember?”

Oliver choked on his own tongue.  “ _That’s_ what we’re doing?”  He had been pretty content with seeing that it wasn’t deformed.

“Yes.  If we want to know what they did to you, we need to inspect all of your cock’s…” Felicity waved her fingers at his crotch, “…multiple…states.”

Laughter spilled out involuntarily.  It was amazing how much more calm Oliver felt now.  “O…K…”

Felicity rolled her eyes, grinning sassily at him.  “Now, stand up, so I can get a better look.”

Oliver did as he was told.  Because…who knows why?  But he had a feeling he’d always do as Felicity told him in the bedroom.  Though, it was very weird to have her stare at his cock like a scientist and not as a…lover.   Wow, they were lovers.  Wasn’t that something?  The Beast pipped up, saying, ‘`bout damn time.’

Clearing his throat, Oliver shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Notice anything?”

Felicity shook her head.  “No, but it’s not like I got to see it before.  Like _before_ before.  Before the abduction.  After the abduction, I got to see it, but treatments had already started.  Not, that I stared at it _then_ either.  Actually, I was too depressed to stare.  Which is a shame.  For multiple reasons.  But, apparently, the depression was a Pre-Heat thing so we don’t have to worry about that—”

“Felicity,” Oliver gently interrupted, though part of him wanted to see what would happen if he let it go on.

“Right.  Babbling.” She glanced up at Oliver with an apologetic smile.  “It looks like a normal cock and by normal, I don’t mean _average_ ,” Felicity quickly corrected, her hands taking motion as she worked herself into yet another babble.  Did sex make her babble more?  That was a theory worth testing in the near future.  “It’s certainly above average.  Like _way_ above average—”

“ _Felicity_.”  She was adorable and beyond entertaining, but he could see in Felicity’s eyes that his little genius had a plan.  Her eyes came up to Oliver’s again and this time her mouth clamped shut.

“Now what?”

The saucy smile Felicity gave him confirmed his suspicion.  It also made Oliver suspect he was going to secretly _love_ this plan.

Felicity’s soft hand reached out and closed around his cock, making Oliver’s eyes roll back into his head as he felt himself lengthen and broaden.  Quickly.  _Way_ quicker than expected, especially given his previous orgasm.  Licking his lips, he forced himself to look down at her.

“ _Now_ , we experiment.”  Felicity ran her thumb over the head, making Oliver’s hips buck.  “And try to figure out what makes this cock so super.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been five weeks since the last update and this isn’t the neatest ending in the world, but chapter 9 _will_ be up next week. I promise (baring disaster). It is pure crack and one of my favorites. 
> 
> A large part of the delay was that I started a fic for the Olicity Fic Big Bang (OFBB) and it needs to be finished by August *scared face*. I’ve discovered that unlike some other very talented authors, I can’t easily switch back and forth between fics. My brain is either immersed in one universe or the other. I do have a complicated schedule laid out for how I can get that one done and still update AKOI, but it will be slower. 
> 
> Chapters 9 and 10 should be out quickly, though. The next chapters are more smut than plot (which I guess is either a warning or a promise, depending on your pov). I love Heat, so I want to completely explore it before it’s over, then I’ll work on that whole pesky plot thing. 
> 
> My lovely Beta/cheerleaders have been working hard these last 10 days, since I’ve sent them both my OFBB fic and two chapters of AKOI to critic, so many thanks to **fairytalehearts, ireland1733,** and **dontyou-forgetaboutme89** for their honestly, support and hard work! 
> 
> Thank you, also, to all the wonderful people who left kudos and comments!! See, I do respond to everyone…eventually. Writing comes before responding, but this time I found responding a great way to get back into this Universe after leaving for my angsty OFBB AU. Please keep them coming. I love you all!! 
> 
> I occasionally do updates on my Tumblr at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/emmilynestill. 
> 
> Thanks all! 
> 
> Emmy


	9. For Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is crack. Smut. Humor. Plot? Maybe a little. Define plot.

Felicity wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell Oliver about the genetic Soulmate thing.  She had fully _intended_ to tell him.  She _would_ tell him.  But…

But when it came time to say the actual words, _out loud_ , they just wouldn’t come out.  Felicity froze.  Her brain just…went haywire. 

It looked like the anxiety was back.  Hurray.   Felicity wondered if it had been too long since she ate or drank any of the drugged food or if her new _enhanced_ metabolism had cleared the affects crazy quick.

Either way, Felicity panicked.  Not terribly, but enough.  She just _wasn’t_ ready to say it out loud.  To Oliver.  To anyone, but especially to Oliver.

It just seemed…presumptuous.  ‘Hey, B.T.W., we’re Soulmates.  No, _really_ , it’s scientific and everything.  In our genes.  So, yeah, you thought you had a choice in loving me.  Turns out, nope, you don’t.  Guess what, you’re stuck with me.  Surprise..’

Yeah.  Wow.  As Felicity _fully_ processed the information for the first time…mind blown, ‘cause the implications of the word ‘ _Soulmates’_ …well, now that she thought about it, was sort-of, kind-of extreme.  It was all well and good to _say it_.  To tell someone this was ‘ _the one_.’  It was something else altogether to have it confirmed genetically before you even _started_ a romantic relationship.

Oliver said he wanted a commitment.  And that’s what Felicity wanted as well.  Like, completely.  Absolutely.  But there was commitment and there was _commitment_.  Like as in _actual_ forever.  No backsies.  Until the end of time.  Because souls…wasn’t that how long they lasted?  Way beyond these fragile corporeal forms? 

This was not the ‘forever’ that was carved into a mass produced BFF necklace that was given out in the third grade and lost by sixth.  It wasn’t two names written in sharpie on a bathroom stall and crossed out senior year as a new name was added.

This was _so_ much more.  So, while Felicity fully intended to tell Oliver everything, she just wasn’t ready to deal with this teeny tiny eternal destiny thing.  At least, not yet. 

Unfortunately, Oliver was _damn_ persistent when he wanted to be.  So, _maybe_ Felicity played dirty.  _Perhaps_ she used the oldest trick in the book.  She distracted Oliver with his cock.

It wasn’t hard.  Pun, maybe a little bit intended. 

In this, Oliver wasn’t that different from the average former frat boy.  Actually, it was rather funny how easily distracted he’d been.  And, also, how incredibly worried the man was about the wellbeing of his cock.  Seriously, he took potential end of the world scenarios with more aplomb.

Not that Felicity could, or world, ever tell Oliver that.  Or anyone.  Which was a shame, because her and Sarah would have laughed their asses off.

It wasn’t that she _wasn’t_ concerned about his cock.  Felicity, it turned out, _loved_ Oliver’s cock.  Like really, _really_.  Super Cock, indeed.  That not so little appendage had the ability to make her _very_ happy.

And now that Felicity had her hand around it, she had every intention of returning the favor.

For science, of course.

Felicity started her...eh hmm, _experiment_ slowly, watching as Oliver’s breath hitched and he shifted nervously on his feet.  Poor Oliver.  Nothing turned a man into a little boy faster than his dick.

Not that Oliver was anything but a man.  A big, handsome, _delicious_ man.  And he was all hers.

Placing her hand flat on Oliver’s stomach, Felicity became momentarily distracted by…how on earth were abs like that even real?  Wow.  Sometimes, she thought they were actually airbrushed on, they were that perfect.  But, right, focusing…

Felicity tried to smile at Oliver reassuringly and not like a cat on the prowl, which was kinda how she felt.  “Relax,” she told him, though she had so much more than _relaxing_ planned.  “We’ll figure this out.  Trust me.”

For some reason, Felicity was completely confident that however the gene futzying altered his genitalia it was all for the greater good.  Well, _her_ greater good, anyway.  She’d just have to calm Oliver down and make him…see things from her point of view.

Oliver’s nod was gratifying, as was the way his shoulders relaxed at her command.  As Felicity stroked his quickly lengthening cock, he reached out a hand to brace it on the window behind the bed and shifted his stance to make it more stable.  That was gratifying as well.  She wondered if she could make Mr. Perfect Reflexes lose his balance.  That would be _fan-fracking-tastic_. 

Biting her lip, Felicity did her best to hide, or at least soften, her cat grin and turned her attention to the matter at...eh… _hand_.  Watching Oliver’s cock grow and stretch in her hand was fascinating.  This wasn’t something she ever imagined having the opportunity to watch and feel at such leisure.  It felt indulgent.  Wicked. 

Science was _awesome_.

Felicity lifted his newly erect…erection, examining the bottom, her thumb running along the thick vein on the underside.  She smiled wider as it pulsed and twitched in her hand, Oliver letting out a muffled, “Mmph.”

A glance upward showed Oliver biting his lip.  And not gently.  If he kept that up, he was going to break the skin.  His breathing was shallow and his eyes half-closed, but what Felicity could make of the blue depths made her thighs damp…er.

Below, his very much _not_ deformed cock, Felicity’s attention was caught by him…scrotum?  Ball sack?  There was really no sexy word for it.  Maybe that was because it was usually an ugly-looking thing, something Felicity had never found herself particularly attracted to, but…maybe it was Oliver…or the Heat…or how different it looked completely smooth and free of hair… but just the sight of it made her palms itch and her sex pulse.

Felicity ran her hand down his tight abdomen, trailing her fingers across the _very_ attractive line of his hip, and brought it to cup his balls.  Oliver hissed, his hips stuttering before he got control of himself.

“Does it feel different?  All smooth and such?” Felicity asked quietly, genuinely curious, because a smooth sex certainly did to her.  Better.  _Way_ better.  And it looked better too.  Not hers, _his_.  His looked better.  Well, maybe hers did too, but she wasn’t exactly a connoisseur of the way girly parts looked. 

Either way, chalk up another win for the crazy Megalomaniac Nazis.  Too bad Team Arrow (even if it were only two of them) was still going to kick some serious Psycho Scientist Ass as soon as they got the chance. 

Oliver’s ridiculously attractive testicles were not buying them mercy.  But, _damn_ , they were attractive.  Not only were they hair-free and they weren’t even _wrinkly_.  Lordy, the man had Super Nuts to go with his Super Cock.

“Yeah,” Oliver answered in a gasp and it took Felicity a minute to remember she’d asked a question in the first place.  What question had she asked again?

“A good ‘yeah’?” Felicity responded when she was able to, miraculously, retrieve the information.

Oliver chuckled breathlessly.  “ _Definitely_ a good ‘yeah’.  Different.”

Felicity rolled Oliver’s smooth balls (nuts?  jiggleberries? She might have to stick with Super Nuts) in her hand and had the surprising urge to wrap her lips around them.  Also a new one for her.  But that would be rushing things and science required patience.

“You’ve never shaved before?” Felicity asked.  Somehow, she imagined Oliver would have tried it somewhere in his wide and lured sexual past.  She’d tried a Brazilian once and her sexual history was neither wide nor lured.  “Part of the Ollie sexcapades days?”

Oliver was suspiciously silent, except for an even more suspicious clearing of his throat.

She would defiantly say that was a ‘yes’ to the sexcapades.  Grinning, Felicity purred, yes _purred_ , “ _Oliverrrr_?” 

Frowning, he flicked her an embarrassed glance.  “I may have lost a dare once.”

Oooo, that was even better.  Felicity erupted in laughter.  She’d never laughed this much in the bedroom.  Then again, she couldn’t remember ever being this happy, _ever_ , even with the terrible circumstances.  And she didn’t believe that was the Heat or the Pheromones.  No that was all Oliver.  Well, maybe Super Cock could have a little bit of the credit.

“Let me guess, it wasn’t an experience you wanted to repeat.”  Though, Felicity really wanted details and they were _not_ forthcoming.

“It itched,” Oliver grunted.

His tone just made her laugh harder.  Especially since she knew _exactly_ what he meant.  It was why her own Brazilian was a onetime only experience.  Felicity ran her thumb over the smooth stretchy skin of Oliver’s scrotum and leaned forward, barely restraining herself from giving into the urge to see what it felt like against her tongue.

“And this doesn’t?  Itch, that is?”  Felicity was aware that her voice had dropped an octave. 

“No— _Jesus_ , Felicity,” Oliver bit out as she lost a tiny bit of control and dropped a light kiss to where cock and balls met.

“God, you smell so good.”  Felicity breathed him in, becoming completely distracted as his scent started to build again.  “Wood and pine and sin.”

Oliver chuckled, his voice lower now, too, all traces of anxiety and embarrassment falling away.  Relaxed and uninhibited Oliver was a treat.  “You smell like fresh baked bread, sweets…”  He leaned over and closed his eyes.  Breathing in her hair, his nose grazed her temple briefly before he straightened again.  “Chocolate chip cookies.”  His eyes opened and his free hand brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.  “Like sex in a bakery.”

“Hmmm,” Felicity nuzzled into his hand.  “That sounds nice.  Warmer than sex in the forest.”  She gave Oliver a wicked grin.  “Though, I’m not opposed to either.”

A rumbling growl emerged from his chest and his eyes somehow darkened even further.  “Come ‘ere.”  Oliver’s hand closed around Felicity’s elbow and tried to pull her to her feet.

Felicity wasn’t sure what Oliver had in mind, but she was pretty sure it would lead to her being pulled head-long back into a Heat fog, and while she was _certain_ it would be pleasurable, it wasn’t going to help them figure out why they had gotten stuck in the first place.  In fact, it was very likely lead to them being re-stuck.

So, instead, Felicity brushed off his hand and stayed firmly seated on the mattress. “Na-ah.  We’re in the middle of an experiment here.  For science, remember?”

Oliver grunted, clearly unhappy with being brushed aside.  “How could I forget?  Okay, then, let’s get it over with.”

Over with?  Oliver wasn’t going to be saying that once he found out what Felicity had planned for her little _experiment_.

Felicity let go of his balls, _for now_ , and wrapped both hands around his cock.  “Do you think it’s done…growing?”  As sexy as his size was, she really hoped this was as big as it got.

“Yeah.  I think so.”

It _was_ rather hard.  Like full hardness hard, if that made sense.  “Has it always been…” Felicity gulped, rubbing her thighs together through another pulse of excitement.  “ _This_ big?”

Oliver’s eyes cleared a little bit, becoming less aroused and more, well, intelligent.  Not that he wasn’t intelligent when he was aroused, he just didn’t seem as int—

“Uh…I’m pretty sure it’s bigger…” Oliver said softly, frowning as he unknowingly interrupted her internal ramble.  “Bigger than usual, I guess.”

“Pretty sure?”  You’d think it would be something a guy would know.  Especially a guy who’s slept his way across Starling City and even if he was, _somewhat_ , reformed …he’d proved today how fixated on his cock he could be. 

“It’s not like I routinely take out a ruler and measure.”

Sarcasm, much?  Not that Felicity was buying it.  There had definitely been a ruler.  Maybe even a tape measure.  “Come on.  At some point in your drunken adolescence I’m quite certain that you and Tommy compared cock length.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed and they stared at each other for a full minute before he snapped,  “Eight inches.”  Then quieter, “Almost.”

Felicity almost laughed as she caught the last part.  Men were so ridiculous.  Of course, they _had_ to round up.  She knew that seven and a half inches was _well_ above average (What else was an awkward, teenage nerd with a greater love of the internet than her classmates supposed to do, then a little adolescent research?).  But, still, Oliver _had_ to make it sound as big as he could. 

Though, Felicity had no doubt that Oliver wasn’t exaggerating the ‘almost eight’, except…this seemed a lot _bigger_.  Like only seen in porn _bigger_.  Not that she watched a lot of porn.  Lately.

Using her thumb as a ruler, Felicity…holy _crap_!

Felicity gulped.  “Well, at this point, I’d say you’re closing in on _ten_.  Inches that is.”        

“No _shit_!” he gasped, his eyes flying back down.  Then Oliver turned his wide and concerned gaze to Felicity.  “Are you okay?”

That tore another laugh from her.  Oliver was _too_ cute.  “I’m fine.  Woman are made to push out babies.  I think I can handle Super Cock.”

Oliver cleared his throat, looking like he was in shock, his hand twitched like he wanted to take his own cock in his hand, but Felicity still had hold of it so…no.  At the moment, this cock was _all_ hers.

“This still doesn’t explain why it got stuck,” Oliver reminded her, swallowing.  “I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure this was the size it was going in.”

Looking at it, it was hard to imagine, but Felicity was almost certain that Oliver was right.  But, wow…it was kinda of incredible that this monster felt _good_ inside her.  Once you go Super Cock…she better pray that this Soulmate thing was true, because there was a good chance that no other man would measure up.  Literally or figuratively.

But, good lord, it was beautiful and it _had_ felt really big inside, but also perfect and…

“Well, then, I guess…” Felicity leaned forward and licked a long stripe along the length of his cock.  God, Oliver tasted as good as he smelled.  “It’s time to move on to the next phase of the experiment.”

“Gah… _Felicity_.”  Oliver arched into her with a groan, clearly not expecting that particular move.  “What’s the next…?  Ahhh…ghhh…”

Oh, she _did_ enjoy making him incoherent.  Felicity leaned forward and ran her mouth over his length again, unwilling to wait to get another taste.  Then licking her lips, she decided it might be best to clue Oliver into her plans.  She didn’t want him to tense up. 

“To find out what happens to Super Cock when you come, of course.”

Closing her mouth over the head of said Super Cock, Felicity sucked on it like it was a lollypop.  A rather large and incredibly delicious lollypop.  It made Oliver’s hips buck and low gravelly moans fall from his lips.  His hand flexed and threaded behind her loose bun.  She was rather certain that it wouldn’t survive long, but her present activity was better without hair in her face, so she’d leave it for as long as it lasted.

“Yeah, okay.  Good plan,” Oliver gasped.  See, communication was good.  Felicity was well on her way to training him.  “Good plan.  _Genius_ , my gen… _Felicity_ …”

His rapidly depreciating lucidity made Felicity smile around Oliver’s cock.  Or try to.  It wasn’t that easy, actually.  In fact, she had to kept it rather shallow.  She wasn’t sure how much of this monster she could take.  

Felicity looked up to see Oliver looking down at her with intensity and… _adoration_ …  No one had ever looked at her like that before.  She swallowed without thinking and he must have liked how that felt because his head fell back and, frack, the lines of his neck, his chest and his… _everything_.  He was just so gorgeous.

A shot of arousal started between Felicity’s thighs and splintered, fanning out throughout her entire body.  The Heat was starting again.  She could feel it.  The warmth.  The _hum_.  She squeezed her thighs together as she felt a gush of wetness and sucked harder, taking Oliver as deep as her aching jaw would allow.  Even that felt good.   

“ _Mmm_ , Felicity...”

The words rumbled over her sharpened senses and Felicity watched Oliver’s head loll back on those too broad shoulders.  When he managed to lock eyes with her again, she saw her desire and more mirrored back in those blue, blue depths.

It was inspiring.  Or so it would seem, because Felicity took a deep breath through her nose and, somehow, managed to swallow another inch.  The fantastic masculine moans Oliver made were more than enough reward.  Not that she needed a reward when his taste and the smooth heat on her tongue were warming her up from the inside.

The hand on her head clenched again, but just as it would have yanked Felicity’s hair, Oliver let go.  Ever the gentleman.  His hand trembled, spasming, before it fell to his side, forming a tight fist against his thigh.  His whole body leaned to the left, falling heavily onto the flexed arm bracing him against the window.

Felicity wished she could swallow him whole.  She wished she could bury her nose in Oliver’s belly, breathe the heady smell and feel his abdominal muscles against her face.  She wanted to feel him in her throat, something she had not only never done before, but had never felt the slightest desire to try.  Just her luck that when she had the urge, it was with a cock that could make a porn star cry with jealousy.

Not that they’d ever know.  As far as Felicity was concerned, no one would ever see Oliver like this again.  _Mine_.  Genetic Soulmate or not.  He was _hers_.  She wanted to shout it as loudly as he had shouted it before.  Would have, maybe, if her mouth wasn’t so pleasurably occupied. 

Felicity was glad his cock had changed.  Far too many women had had their hands on him.  On Ollie Queen.  But this Oliver, he was new.  He was completely and totally hers and, at that moment, Felicity had no doubt she could and _would_ claw the eyes out of any woman who dared touch her mate.  And she actually thought she meant that literally.

What the hell was happening to her?

To them?

And, most importantly, did she _care_?

Did Felicity want to fight this new primitive need, this possessiveness, this… _connection_?  Right now, the answer was an unequivocal ‘ _no’_.  And that should scare the hell out of her, but it didn’t.  Not even a little bit.

All that mattered to her was Oliver.  And, right now, Felicity was realizing that her mouth alone may not be enough for her Super Hero's, Super Cock. 

God, just thinking it made her giggle (something Heat Felicity did rather often it seemed), which in turn made Oliver moan, because giggling must have felt good around his shaft.  Who knew?  It wasn’t something that had had occurred to her to try before.

But as much as they were both, clearly, _emphatically,_ enjoying this, the goal was to see what happened when Oliver came.  And _not_ inside her.  Unfortunately.  As much as her own sex was clenching and protesting the lack of him. 

Felicity forcibly refocused on the goal. Which was _not_ going at it like rabbits again and resulting in possibly another stuck episode.  It was  good that Super Cock didn’t fit down her throat, now that she thought about it,  because getting stuck _there_ just might be a medical emergency…okay, _that_ was not sexy.  That was just awkward and kinda scary.

Time to move on. 

Felicity slowly took Oliver as deep as she could, once more, for…reasons.  Then pulled back slowly and released him with a wet pop.

“What the f— _Felicity_ ,” Oliver whined as she disengaged, his hand coming back up as if he wanted to cup her head to pull her back, then hovering in midair, indecisively.  Poor baby, didn’t know what what was going on.

Giving Oliver’s flank a reassuring pat, Felicity kept one hand circling his shaft and bathed his entire length with her tongue and lips, getting him as wet as she could.  It was messy and maybe a little bit impatient, but the Heat was rising again and grunts above her were fanning the fire.  She didn’t know how much longer she was going to be able to keep what was left of her _scientific_ mindset.

When Oliver was sufficiently slick, Felicity sat back to observe her handwork, closing another fist around him…and, wow, he looked even bigger overflowing her hands, which she never thought of as small until now. 

As Felicity began to stroke, she watched Oliver’s breathing carefully, watched the play of his muscles, listening to the cadence of his moans, quickly learning the rhythm and pressure that made him crazy.  She wanted Oliver to _lose his mind_.

Felicity had intended to dive right back in, sucking on the head in tandem with stroking the shaft with her hands, but something caught her eye and before she could even process the impulse, she dove down and captured one of those luscious, smooth orbs (now, _that_ was a good word) in her mouth. She couldn’t believe that she had almost forgotten about them.

Oliver screamed.  It was almost girly in his surprise, which was intensely gratifying.  He quickly caught himself though and bit out a a rough, masculine, panty-dropping,  “Jesus _Christ_!”

Jesus wasn’t her God, but Felicity had never felt such an appreciation for Oliver’s religion.

“ _Felicity_!”

But, really, she liked how Oliver said her name so much better.  Actually, hearing him say her name, in all it’s myriad of intonations, was Felicity’s favorite thing.

Oliver  tasted _amazingly_ good, Felicity couldn’t have imagined that she would enjoy this so much, the _orb_ was the perfect size and shape for her to suck on, to roll on her tongue.  The smell and the taste was stronger, more potent here.  Perfect.

“Christ, _Felicity_ ,” Oliver breathed.  “How is this so good?”

Felicity hummed her agreement, his words echoing her thoughts. It was weird how he almost seemed to be able to read her mind.

“Fuck!”  Oliver’s hips bucked into her fist and his hand fluttered again, looking for something to grab hold of.  Finally, it came to squeeze and knead Felicity’s shoulder, the rhythm seeming to follow his harsh breaths. 

Another rush of arousal coursed through her, continuing in waves, one following after the other, as Felicity moved to the other testicle.  Now, she understood a man’s fascination for making sure both breasts received equal treatment.  She couldn’t let the other feel neglected.  It just wouldn’t be fair.

But Felicity became distracted by the thick scent at the base of Oliver’s cock and buried her nose there.  _God_ , this must be where the scent was coming from, the glands just under the thin skin.  Her mouth opened and she tongued everything in reach, all while her hand kept up its steady rhythm.

Liquid fire, crashing over and through her.  Ratcheting up up up.  Felicity’s nipples hardened to the point where they were so sensitive, she could feel every movement of the air.  And they _craved_ Oliver’s breath.  Her skin was starting to burn again and she couldn’t help but think that Oliver must be able to feel the warmth radiating off of her.

Felicity needed to stop lingering or her higher brain functioning was not going to be available to help Oliver with his… _not so_ little problem.  If this wasn’t _already_ the point of no return. 

She brought her mouth back up and swallowed as much off his cock as she could, keeping her hand moving, twisting and milking the base.  Oliver was still huge.  Maybe even huge... _er_ , but it didn’t matter.  Felicity’s jaw may have ached.  Or not.  Didn’t matter. It was all… _fantastic_.

At this point, Felicity was working on pure instinct, a full-on primitive drive to find and give pleasure in its fullest.  Her hand wrapped firmly around Oliver as her lips moved up and down, reaching further down with each pass, so much further than she _should_ have been able to.  And the pace, how she kept it up, she’d never know.  Magic Heat chemicals, she supposed.

Why were they abducting people?  All the needed to do was advertise _this_.

Oliver kept up a steady stream of moans and expletives, intermingled with her name.  Felicity’s free hand curled around his hip to steady herself and she could _feel_ the effort he was making to keep from thrusting his monster cock into her mouth and choking her.  The care and effort just made her want to take him deeper.

His hand fisted again, coming to rest gently against her arm.  Oliver’s face was turned and pressed into the taught muscle of his bicep and when Felicity looked up, she saw the last golden rays of day play with the shadows on his face and the sweat on his muscles.  Wow.

When Felicity felt his muscles coil, tighten like steel, she knew Oliver was close.  She doubled the suction, though she kept it shallow, (had enough smarts left to remember she didn’t want to get stuck), pressing the flat of her tongue to his throbbing vein as she wrapped her arm around his back and held him close.  Just in case he had some stupid, noble idea of pulling away before she could _really_ taste him. 

And Felicity wanted that taste.  She wanted Oliver’s essence on her tongue.  She _needed_ it.  Like she needed air.

Oliver roared his climax, his body shaking so much that Felicity was amazed that he managed to keep himself upright.  He flooded her mouth with thick streams and they tasted…frack, it was as good as she imagined it would be.  He tasted the way he smelled, which didn’t make sense and shouldn’t have tasted good, but it did.   _God,_ it did.  It was the most delicious thing that had ever graced her tongue.

But then, Felicity felt a swelling start under her fingers.  She carefully pulled her mouth off, watching with fascination as the base of Oliver’s cock bulged and expanded under her fingers by at least another inch in diameter.

“Felicity?” Oliver panted, an edge creeping into his breathless and blissed out voice.  “Wass going on?”  He reached down and pealed her fingers away, his breathing becoming even rougher.  “ _Jesus Christ!_ ”

Vaguely, Felicity heard the anger and panic in Oliver’s voice.   But she couldn’t take her eyes off it as her hand fell numbly away.  Off his cock, with its bulging, swollen base.

Oliver grabbed it roughly, bending over to take a closer look, his eyes blazing and hard.  “Fuck!  It’s a goddamn knot!  It’s not enough that they turned us into sex starved animals… _A knot_.  Like a fucking dog!”

Of _course_.  Felicity should have realized earlier that’s what was going on.  Maybe on some level she did, but she just wasn’t working with her normal focus and mental acumen. What else could it have been?  And she’s been so sure that the swelling would go down, eventually.  Poor Oliver, she really should have figured it out sooner.

Though, even as she thought it, Felicity could feel the brain fog rolling in.  The humm of the arousal.  The Heat.  It was just all so distracting.

“Felicity, sweet, look at me,” Oliver commanded, cupping her chin and forcing her to look up at him.  “I know this is freaky as fuck and it must be the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen—”

Felicity shook her head.  It felt like she was moving through water.  No, thicker than water.  Like moving in thick, warm pudding.  The air around her was heavy and hot and potent.  She licked her lips, her eyes not wanting to leave the fascinating mystery that was Oliver’s cock, even though his hand was doing everything it could to force them away and make her look at his face instead.

“No,” Felicity protested, finally getting her voice to work in something resembling a coordinated fashion.  “It’s…its…” She wasn’t even sure what she was trying to say.  Her brain was short-circuiting.  And she didn’t even care.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Through the cloud, Felicity heard the mounting anxiety and concern in Oliver’s voice.  “Tell me what you’re thinking.  We’ll fix it.  We’ll—”

“It’s not…”  Felicity shook her head, forcing herself to focus on Oliver…  Well, on the speaking, emotions part of Oliver, not the between his legs part of Oliver that held her attention so well. 

Felicity wrapped her hand around his wrist to try and ground herself.  Oliver thought she was repulsed by him and that could not be further from the truth.  She had to tell him, had to let him know… “You don’t understand.  It’s _beautiful_.”

Oliver’s head snapped up, his mouth falling open in shock.

But Felicity grabbed his hips and pulled him closer.  Oliver needed to be _closer_.  Why didn’t he understand.  He really _needed_  to understand. 

She burned.  She craved.  She longed. 

“I need it.  It belongs inside me.  I. Need.  It.  Inside.  Me.  _Now_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the most explicit thing I have ever wrote and I, honestly, worried it was too crude when I first wrote it, but reconsidered later. But, then again, I may just be getting numb to it all. Feel free to let me know if you felt I went too far. I don’t mind some constructive criticism, especially since I have lots more smut coming up for this story. 
> 
> And I really hope no one (or at least not too many of you) are too grossed out by the knot thing. It is classic Omegaverse, but I worry it’s a little too far into the kinky side for the Olicity fandom. I did try to make it more intimate and sensual (and humorous) than weird and kinky, but there’s only so much you can do with the trope and I really wanted to include it. 
> 
> Many thanks to my lovely Beta and cheeerleaders: **fairytalehearts, ireland1733,** and **dontyou-forgetaboutme89**.


	10. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:  First, I’m very sorry for the ridiculously long hiatus, especially with such a *eh hem* _awkward_ cliff-hanger.
> 
> This chapter follows chapter 9 directly.  You may want to reread a bit to get the flow if it’s been awhile.  :-D

 

Suddenly discovering that your cock was two inches longer and, God only knows, how much thicker would be a dream come true for some men.

Those men were assholes.

Who the hell had…or even _wanted_ a dick this big?  Porn stars, that’s who.  Oliver had been perfectly content with his reasonably-sized (well above average) cock.  Thank you _very much_.  One that wouldn’t potentially harm the love of his life while he was trying to make love to her, which was already under far less than perfect circumstances. 

Making love was not a term Oliver used often, or at all, but perversely, he felt the need to use whatever words necessary to keep this as distanced as he possibly could from the primal mating _bullshit_ these whack jobs were trying to force upon them.  Even if it was all a head game.

But Oliver _loved_ this woman, goddamn it.  Goddamn _them_!  And this sure as hell didn’t feel like an impersonal…mating.  Something that was all about lust and bodies, instinct and completion.  Well, yes, there was _that_ …but this was _so_ much more, something almost beyond love, if such a thing even made sense.  Which it didn’t. 

In the end, all Oliver really knew was that it was different from anything he had ever felt before.  More.  In every way… _more_.

Though, Oliver could have done without the _more_ also being in the form of his cock size, but luckily, Felicity didn’t seem scared by his new… _situation_.  In fact, she seemed to really like it, was enthusiastic even.  Of course, he was afraid that that was just the Heat talking.  Even if she did seem pretty rational.  And honest.  As always, honest. 

Super Cock? 

_Seriously_?  Only his Felicity could take a fucked up train-wreck of a situation like this and add something so silly, so… _witty_.  Oliver really didn’t know how he felt about the nickname, but at same time it was almost…fun. Light.

His shining beacon.

Oliver loved her so fucking much.

And, despite the absolute insanity of the situation, Oliver was actually starting to feel good. Relaxed.  Happy, even.   

They’d managed to get themselves unstuck.  Without medical procedures.  And his penis, while a little bit supe…eh, _oversized_ , wasn’t grossly misshapen and seemed to be in _full_ working order.  And Felicity...well, Felicity was just perfect.    More perfect than he had even realized.

Felicity was back to her usual cheerful, bright self, sharp as a tack and sexy as hell.  And _then_ she decided that the best course of action was to give him the best fucking blow job of his life. 

Perfect. 

There were no words.

Oliver had no idea how Felicity managed to take so much of that ridiculously sized cock into her mouth, but she honestly seemed to _enjoy_ it.  And it was the single most erotic sight he had ever set his eyes on.

How Oliver had managed to restrain the Beast, to not grab Felicity’s head and fuck her mouth, he’d never know.  But it made him pretty damn proud.  Actually, the whole thing had him feeling so spectacularly good, he forgot that the purpose of all this was to figure out why they had gotten stuck in the first place.

That was until, after another minding blowing orgasm, one that Oliver was frankly proud and amazed he was able to remained standing for…the base of his new monster cock swelled up like a goddamn balloon between Felicity’s soft white fingers, a grotesque red in contrast to her perfect skin. 

Then Oliver realized that he had seen something like this before and his stomach turned over.  There was a very good possibility that he was going to be sick.  Because he was damn sure it wasn’t on a human.  And the last thing that he ever wanted to do was compare his cock to a cocker spaniel’s.

“ _Jesus Christ!_ ”

Be gentle, don’t grab her.  Be gentle.  Oliver mentally recited his mantra, forcing himself to follow his own advice and not bodily tear Felicity away from the freakish thing. 

Just when Oliver had relaxed and decided he wasn’t deformed, it turned out he very much _was_. 

As carefully and gently as Oliver could manage, and it was with Super-Human restraint he was sure, he removed Felicity’s fingers from his… _fuck_ …knot.

Once her fingers fell from his, Oliver was much less temperate as he grabbed his own freakish dick and started to rant and rave like a lunatic, comparing himself to a dog, which he immediately regretted.  The last thing he wanted was for Felicity to have the image of animal genitalia in her head.  She must already be disgusted.  What woman in her right mind would want to have sex with _that_?

Felicity looked shell shocked, just staring at _it_ like…Oliver really didn’t want to imagine what she was thinking.  “Felicity, baby, look at me.”

The panic was returning, because Oliver really didn’t think he could handle it if Felicity turned from him now, not after finally accepting that they could be together.  Her eyes were unfocused and she was having a hard time meeting his eyes.  He tried to catch her gaze, all the while willing the damn swelling would go away.   _Fast_ this time.

Oliver took a shaky breath and plowed on, “I know this is freaky as fuck and it must be the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen—”

Felicity shook her head.  And it felt like a rejection, but…Oliver didn’t know.  She was acting weird.  Was she trying to figure out how to sugar coat this monstrosity?  He forced her to look away from _it_ and into his eyes a little too roughly, but he couldn’t stand watching her stare at it for another second.

“No, It’s…its…” Felicity finally met his eyes and hers were wide and dilated.  Maybe this was more than disgust.

“What is it, sweet? Tell me what you’re thinking.  We’ll fix it.” God, Oliver hoped they could fix this.  He didn’t know what he would do if they couldn’t fix this.  “We’ll—”

“It’s not…”  Felicity shook her head again and reached up to wrap her hand around his wrist, the one cupping her chin.  At first, Oliver thought it was to pull his hand from her face but she held on tight.   “You don’t understand.  It’s _beautiful_.”

Oliver’s jaw dropped.  He managed to get it closed only to have it drop open a second time because… _what_?  Nooooo.  That was the delusional part of his brain hearing what it wanted to hear.  Because… _no way_.  It was the opposite of beautiful it was… _disgusting_.

He was off kilter, so it was easy for Felicity to grab Oliver’s hips and haul him closer.  She probably could have knocked him over with a gentle tap. 

“I need it.  It belongs inside me.  I need it inside me.  _Now_.”

Shit!  That was some _serious_ Heat-fog. It was the only explanation, because as much as Oliver wanted to believe that Felicity wasn’t disgusted by _it_ , that she _liked_ it even, it was pretty damn hard to believe.  Especially, when she was staring at him with glazed, unfocused eyes, looking for all the world like she was high as a kite.

It was damn tempting, though.  Because if Oliver accepted that Felicity was okay with his new bizzarro cock, then what did _he_ care what it looked like?  It wasn’t like he planned on anyone else seeing it in the foreseeable future.  Longer, if he had his way.  Any future, even at a distance, without her, was too bleak to contemplate.

But right now, it was pretty clear that Felicity wasn’t in her right mind.  Oliver crouched down in front of her to talk, _just_ to talk, but once their faces were level, he just couldn’t resist those beautifully swollen, smiling lips and pressed a soft kiss to them.  

That was probably his first mistake.

Felicity’s hands grabbed the back of his head and yanked him closer, devouring his lips.  Oh wow, how had Oliver lived this long without knowing how she tasted, the softness of her lips?

Felicity kissed like she did everything else.  With Passion.  Enthusiasm.  And a style all her own.  Oliver never wanted to go back to a world where he didn’t get to kiss her every chance he had.

Still, Oliver knew he couldn’t let this kiss get too deep, knew the second he let Felicity’s tongue enter his mouth he’d be lost.  _Again_.  He was noticing a pattern here.  Waves of sexual mindlessness, followed by a brief period of coherence after orgasm.  The problem was getting their lucid periods to line up.

And his cock, well, Oliver would swear that the damn thing had never been so confused in its life.  It felt tingly, and oddly cold, especially where the knot swelled, which wasn’t how it felt _at all_ when they had been stuck together.  Clearly, his bastard dick was very unhappy that he wasn’t inside Felicity right now, locked in her wet heat. 

Oliver cupped Felicity’s cheeks and stroked her face as he continued to kiss her, trying to calm the manic sexual energy he could feel radiating from her in waves.  Her scent was strong, but he was realizing that he was able to stay rational as the long as the knot was in place.

At first, Felicity seemed frustrated by the way Oliver was holding back, but eventually his patience gentled her and she melted into the kiss. He tried to show her how special she was to him. 

He had always imagined slow, loving kisses that lasted for hours, but even before the pheromone debacle, slow and loving always seemed to give way to _need_ far too quickly.  So Oliver savored her for as long as he could, until Felicity’s soft little purring moans had his mind spinning and his confused cock annoyed and unsure what to do.  Pulling back, he rubbed his nose against hers, kissing her check, her chin…

“Oliver,” Felicity whimpered, as soon as his lips left hers, digging her nails into his back and skull.  “ _Please_ …”

“Felicity, sweet…” Oliver murmured, staying close, just not too close.  “I’m pretty sure the Heat fog is back.”

“Wow.”  Felicity frowned, narrowing her eyes at him.  “Aren’t you Captain Obvious?”

Strangely, Oliver didn’t feel even the slightest bit annoyed by her insult.  He found Felicity’s touch and her smell extremely calming.  He still wasn’t happy about the whole knotting thing, but…well, he _supposed_ it wasn’t the _worst_ case scenario. 

“I’m just reminding us _both_ that you aren’t in your right mind.”

Felicity’s eyes narrowed even further as a genuinely confused look came over her face.  “Right mind for _what_?  I hardly think higher brain power is need for kissing—ohhhh, you’re talking about my reaction to Super Cock’s new Super Power.”

Oliver barked out a choking laugh.  “Are you planning to call it that for the rest of our lives?”

After he said it, Oliver tensed.  He couldn’t believe that slipped out.  They had been a ‘couple’ for a matter of hours, it probably wasn’t time yet to be discussing ‘the rest of their lives.’  He could be rather intense and the last thing he wanted was to push too fast.  Hell, the assholes that took them had forced enough on them.

But Felicity just smiled cheekily, her nose crinkling in that adorable way she had.  “Yeah, I think I probably will.” 

The happy grin that spread across Oliver’s face was so relaxed and instinctive…every time he worried he was going too fast, being too much, Felicity was right there, meeting him half-way.  God, he loved her.  It was almost frightening how much.  She could call his cock any damn fool thing she wanted as long as she stood by his side.

Still, they needed to have this conversation.  “I’m trying to say that I think your Heat is biasing you toward my…genitalia.”

“Genitalia?” Felicity scoffed, smirking at his word choice.  “Uh…his name is Super Cock.”

Oliver’s huff of laughter was involuntary.  Felicity was making it really hard to hold onto any negative emotion what-so-ever.  And for someone who was almost panting with lust, her hands running restlessly over his skin, she was doing a really good job keeping up the witty banter.  “I’m _not_ calling it that.”

Felicity gave an exaggerated pout. “But that’s his Super Hero name.  How would you feel if people refused to call you the Arrow—?”

“First of all,” Oliver tried to be stern, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t pulling it off in the slightest.  “I’m not a Super Hero.”

“Yes, you are—”

“Second of all, my cock doesn’t have feelings—”

“Uh…I _beg_ to differ—”

“Not the kind that can be insulted, Felicity.”  Oliver should give up.  There was no hiding his smile at this point.  It was insane how happy she made him.  Besides, if she could be this quick witted, clearly the Heat fog wasn’t that bad.

“It’s bad enough that you think Super Cock is ugly,” Felicity chastised, keeping up the mock serious face so much better than him.  “Now, you don’t appreciate his new Super Power…”

Oliver let out a deep belly laugh.  “Felicity, it’s a _knot_ for C---God’s sake.  It’s not pretty,” he sputtered, trying to control himself.

Tilting her head, Felicity smiled almost condescendingly.  “Oh Oliver, I hate to break it to you, but cocks aren’t pretty to begin with.  They’re actually rather funny looking.”

The laughter he had just started to control rumbled forth again as Oliver imagined a young Felicity Smoak examining a picture of male genitalia for the first time and wrinkling her nose, thoroughly unimpressed.

“I’m not saying girly parts are any better,” Felicity argued, almost as if she were trying to reassure him.  “They’re rather ugly as well.”

“ _Lies_!” Oliver protested with a cheek splitting grin.  “Your ‘girly parts’ resemble the most beautiful of flowers.”

“I really don’t want to know what kind of flowers _you’ve_ been looking at—”

Oliver couldn’t handle it any more.  He grabbed Felicity close and threw them both onto the bed, his laughter bubbling over until Felicity gave in and began to giggle too.  He held her sprawled over his chest and he laughed until tears ran down his face and onto her shoulder.  He really had no right to be this happy.

But Felicity seemed to have more on her mind than laughter and with them lying pressed together, it wasn’t long before she was squirming against him shamelessly and trying to pull him closer.

Shaking his head, Oliver wiped the tears from his cheeks and whispered in her ear, “I thought you were trying to convince me that Heat _isn’t_ clouding your judgement?”

“I really don’t see the problem, Oliver,” Felicity sighed, her hands stilling not at all. She moved quickly, grasping his cock between them.  “Super Cock’s Super Power is to swell up and extend _my_ pleasure infinitely.  Not mention...” she smirked at him, “make sure you, mister, can’t escape post-coital cuddles.  What’s not to love?”

That one made Oliver laugh with delight and haul Felicity closer, buzzing her lips with a hard kiss.  “Trust me, the last thing I want to do is escape your ‘cuddles.’”

Felicity’s grin widened to an almost blinding magnitude and she tugged at poor Super Cock…oh God, did Oliver just _think_ that ridiculous name in his head?  He really _must_ be gone.

“My only problem with Super Cock,” Felicity wheedled, with another gentle tug for emphasis, “is that he isn’t _inside me_.  Can we, please—?”

Oliver sighed.  His poor girl.  Her brain really wasn’t anywhere near full capacity, wit or not.  “Sweet, you are overlooking one important thing.”  Felicity just looked at him in confusion.  “In its present state, it won’t fit.”

Felicity’s face fell as she realized the truth of Oliver’s words.  Her hand dropped from his dick and she rolled off of him and onto her back.  Throwing her arms out dramatically, she groaned a loud, disgruntled, “Ugh!”

Oliver rolled onto his side and came up on his elbow to stare down at her.  Felicity was just…he couldn’t put it into words.   He couldn’t stop smiling either.  “How do you do that?” he finally whispered.

Felicity’s eyes flitted to his, an adorable pout still gracing her lips.  “What?”

Reaching over, Oliver brushed her messy hair out of her face.  The make-shift bun was completely gone now, so he arranged Felicity’s golden hair around her on the white sheets.  “Our world has gone to hell, the most bizarre hell I’ve ever experienced and that’s saying something, yet...” he paused, cupping her cheek to look into her eyes, “I’m happy.”  And, crap, his voice broke a little there at the end.

Her pout turned into a smile, one that looked rather besotted if Oliver did say so himself.  Felicity rolled back into his arms, pressing a kiss to his lips and rubbing her nose with his.  “I’m happy too.”

Gathering her close, they simply laid there for a minute.  But as the silence stretched, the worries gathered until Oliver sighed, whispering, “Do you think that the drugs, or the pheromones, are making us forget all the bad stuff?” 

Tipping her head back, Felicity laid her head on his bicep and met Oliver’s eyes.  Her forehead wrinkled in a serious little frown as she said softly, “I remember the bad stuff.  I…I guess I just don’t want to let it ruin this.”

Tears burned Oliver’s eyes.  “Felicity…”

“I don’t think you’ve forgotten either,” she murmured, cupping his jaw.

“No.”  Oliver shook his head and banded his arm more firmly around Felicity’s waist.   “But sometimes,” he confessed, nose to nose, “it feels wrong to feel this happy, like we’re giving _them_ what they want.”

Felicity huffed a sad little chuckle.  “Are you sure it doesn’t feel weird because it’s been years since you’ve actually let yourself _be_ happy?”

The corner of Oliver’s lip tipped up.  “That too.”

Throwing a leg over his, Felicity pressed against him, her voice surprisingly lucid.  “If we _don’t_ let ourselves enjoy this, if we let them ruin all these important things, like our first kiss and the first time we…” she broke off with a blush, actually managing to look shy despite everything they’d said and done, whispering, “…we make love.”

The rush of affection that Oliver felt was so strong, his chest hurt.  Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he confessed in Felicity’s ear, “I think of it as making love too.   With you.”  He felt like a great big sap for saying it, but he wanted her to know.

Felicity’s eyes turned watery and she looked up at him with such a look of adoration that it filled Oliver with pride, making it all worth it. 

“If we let those bastards ruin this for us, then it is just another violation,” Felicity went on, her voice more confident now.  “Just another thing they did _to_ us.  Every drop of happiness we find, that we can hold onto…that’s a win for _us_.”

Oliver could only shake his head in wonder.  "How do you...? You are just _so_ remarkable."

Felicity’s smile warmed him to his core.  “You know, this time, I think I actually believe you.”

“I mean it every time,” Oliver assured stroking her cheek.  “Don’t ever doubt it.”

The warmth spread and Oliver felt his muscles uncoil and for the first time since waking up in the White Room, he felt truly relaxed.  Not drug or hormone or even sex induced.  Just…for _once_ he allowed himself to relax into the bed and just be.

 “So do you think this is a _natural_ high?”  Because, honestly, Oliver was feeling a little _too_ good for that to be the case.  It must be… _enhanced_ , in some way.

“Mmm hmm,” Felicity hummed, chasing his lips.  “It’s called being in love.”

Being in love.  Oliver liked the sound of that.  He let Felicity catch him, before adding, his lips against hers, “I don’t know.  I’m pretty damn sure it’s never felt _this_ good before.”  His whole body was warm and happy, the contentment seemed to bubble over when he so much as looked at her. 

Felicity licked her lips, her smile fading into something a bit more solemn.  “Me neither.” 

Oliver swallowed, choking up. And he still, somehow, felt unreasonably happy.  No wonder he felt dizzy.  “So, does that mean…?” He met Felicity’s eyes and kinda got lost in them for a minute.  “That neither of us have ever _actually_ been in love before?”  That was a strange thought that he wasn’t sure he wanted to contemplate.  “Or is this something more?”

Felicity’s breath caught.  “The second, I think.  I—”

Oliver cut her off with an intense kiss, unable to hold back for another second.  Besides, any further down this line of thought and…he didn’t want to think about anyone else.  He just wanted to kiss her and accept that everything with her was just _more_.  Their love, as sappy as it sounded, was deeper and more passionate than anything that had come before. 

He didn’t try and keep the kiss shallow this time.  He didn’t _try_ to do anything at all.  Letting his brain turn off, Oliver just accepted the slow slide of Felicity’s tongue against his own. 

Yet, somehow, neither of them lost control.  It just stayed slow and deep and sensual.  Ardent, but disciplined.  Erotic but composed.

Felicity’s head fell back with a whimper.  She arched her neck and presented it to Oliver like a gift he had _no_ desire to refuse.  Running his lips down the length of her throat, he relished finally being able to take his time, to categorize every shiver and moan.  He closed his mouth over her collar bone and sucked, wondering how long a mark would last, wanting it to last forever. 

It was amazing how after everything they had been through, after being physically and emotionally closer than he had ever been to another human being, they had never experienced the pure, simple joy of necking.  Though, maybe, this was a simple pleasure that Oliver had long forgotten.

Using soft, biting kisses, Oliver traveled back up Felicity’s graceful neck, finding her ear and sucking the lobe into his mouth and rolling it over his tongue.  The missing piercings were another sin to add to Dr. Young’s ledger and don’t even get Oliver started on Felicity’s gorgeous tattoo that had disappeared from sight.

Felicity moaned beneath him, kneading his shoulders.  “You’re torturing me,” she complained as she pulled Oliver closer, pressing her core against his belly, making him wet with her arousal.

Oliver chuckled, murmuring against her neck, “Sorry.  Not sorry.”

Whimpering and grunting in frustration, Felicity worked a hand between them, going for his cock.

“Nuh uh,” Oliver protested, pulling his hips away from her questing hand.  “We want that knot to go away, remember?”

Felicity jerked her hand back and threw it over her eyes petulantly.  “That took _forever_ last time.”    

Oliver found it very entertaining to hear Felicity grumble about the length of time it took the knot to go down, since last time, it was him freaking out and her pleased as punch to have the thing inside her.  “I don’t think it will be that long this time,” Oliver reassured.  Then stretched his neck to say in her ear, “It really doesn’t seem to like not being inside you.”

He received a groan and rather vicious buck in reply. Oliver nipped at Felicity’s chin.  “In the meantime…”  He placed a sucking kiss where her chin met her neck.  “I’d like to take care of you, like you took care of me.”  He pressed a gentle kiss on the upper swell of her breast.  “Do you think you can handle that?”

"No," Felicity chuckled, her eyes bright.  “But I sure as hell want to try.”

Oliver paused as another laugh hit him hard in the belly and he curled over to bury it against her chest, which led to the realization that his stubble made Felicity squirm.  He rubbed it over her skin, before making an open-mouthed exploration of the swell on her breast.  Round and round.  Giving her nipple a wide berth. 

He made sure to brace his arms on either side of her shoulders and hold himself above her while he worshiped her skin.  It may have been vanity on Oliver’s part, but he adored the way Felicity’s eyes darkened and her breath shortened as her gaze fixed on his arms.  He never felt prouder of the body he had created than when Felicity looked at him like that.

Smiling, Oliver couldn’t resist teasing her, “Don’t worry.  I’ll take it slow.”

Felicity gasped.  “You know that’s the opposite of what I—Ahh—”

Oliver wasn’t initially planning on diving down and capturing her nipple in one swoop, but Felicity tempted him in a hundred different ways.  And it was worth it.  When he sucked on that succulent piece of flesh, she became wild, arching and grabbing onto his biceps for dear life.

It felt even better than Oliver had expected, the soft flesh between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.  He only allowed himself three long sucks before pulling back, keeping her nipple stretched and letting it go at the last minute.

Many women enjoyed that if they were aroused enough, but it was a risk.  Felicity, though, she clearly _loved_ it.  She let out a screaming cry, her hips surging upward, trying to grind into him but finding nothing but air as Oliver held himself away from her.

Felicity’s reactions were exquisite.  Oliver couldn’t wait to categorize every like and dislike.  Push her body to the extremes of pleasure and see how far she could go.  He wanted to never have to even think ‘ _most_ _women’_ again when he thought about what she might like during sex.  He wanted to _know_ with absolute certainty everything _she_ enjoyed.

Oliver circled the areola with his tongue.  Far then close.  Before ending with a long kiss against the tip then flicking it with his tongue with quick, hard strokes that had Felicity panting, “Ah ah ah ah,” in sync with the motions of her hips.

And when Oliver eased into a suckle, Felicity’s back flew off the bed to meet him. 

“ _Oliverrrrr_.”

Felicity’s hands flew over his shoulders, uncoordinated and frenzied, until it was too much and her nails dug in, scouring down his back hard enough to leave welts, but instead left streaks of white hot sensation.  Oliver realized that he was _actually_ well on his way to his third _real_ erection of the night.  As strange as it sounded, he had kind of stopped paying attention to his own body awhile back there, happy to drown in Felicity’s. 

Oliver resisted the urge to pull off her nipple and sneak a peek between his legs, just to make sure all was kosher.  Instead, he made a conscious decision to trust himself.  This felt like a normal arousal.  This must be normal arousal. 

Only nothing here was normal.   Everything was different.  And not because of genetic manipulation.  Because of this woman, _his_ woman.  His Felicity.

"Stop teasing,” Felicity whimpered.  "I can't...I need more.  Oliverrrr."

But Oliver wasn't done with her yet.  Not by a long shot.  He had every intention of treating her to the same spectacular pleasure that Felicity had given him.  Letting go of her nipple with a quick lick…or four…Oliver smiled against her flesh and fell to an elbow, saying against her, “But the other one hasn’t gotten any attention.”

“It doesn’t need—mhh—”

Oliver caught Felicity’s other breast in his hand, kneading it before capturing the tip between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth.

“Bastard,” Felicity panted.

He chuckled.  But instead of bringing his mouth to that second breast, Oliver let his hand continue to minister to the neglected flesh making it as swollen and sensitive as the first, while he trailed wet kisses down her belly, leisurely, inch by inch, until he finally reached the place his tongue had been dying to taste.

And, God, the _smell_.  It was heaven.

Oliver slid off the bed and fell to his knees with a thunk that should have hurt, but he couldn’t say he even felt it.  Hooking his hands around Felicity’s knees, he yanked her to the edge of the bed.  Her thighs parted readily, enthusiastically, and with absolute, humbling trust.

Oh wow wow wow wow wow.

This was where her scent was strongest…and it was absolutely…intoxicating was too weak a word, but Oliver’s brain couldn’t find another one.  And Felicity’s girly parts…all rosy and smooth and wet.  Christ, had she actually said _this_ was ugly?

For once, Felicity had _no_ idea what she was talking about.

“I’m _dying_ here, Oliver.”

And she was dramatic as well.  Not to mention impatient.  Oliver smiled.   Taking in one last, long breath, he gently moved Felicity’s thighs to the position he wanted them in.  Then soothing the delicate skin of her inner thigh with lazy circles of this thumbs, he leaned forward to lick her from the base of her slit to the tip of her clit.

God, Felicity tasted even better than he imagined, better than she smelled and…so _incredibly_ better than any woman he had tasted before.  Oliver had promised himself he would stop comparing her to other women.  He really needed to get on that.

Except it was impossible when Felicity was just so shockingly, glaringly… _more_ …

With a growl Oliver gave into his instincts and buried his face in her folds.  Tasting, devouring, inhaling.

“Please…please…”  There was a delirious, out-of-her-mind quality to Felicity’s voice and Oliver relished it, sought it.  “O…O…Oliver!”

Her fingers found his hair and, somehow, managed to pull on the short strands.  The sensation caused an extra shock of electric pleasure to hum over his skin as Oliver worked his way up to her clit and gave it a gentle suck. 

Felicity’s hips flew off the bed, almost clocking him in the chin in her enthusiasm.  Oliver just grinned against her and took the time to tease her delicate flesh with his scuff as he brought a hand to her belly to hold her down with firm pressure. 

“Oliver…need…in…”

What did it say about them that Oliver understood exactly what Felicity was asking for with her incoherent gasps?  Whatever it said, he thought it must be a good thing.

With another soft lick to her clit, Oliver slipped two fingers inside her.  Felicity was wet.  Soaking, dripping wet.  Which, of course, he knew, but actually feeling it still made his cock jump in anticipation.  He snuck a look between his own legs then and, thank God, the bulge was gone and all he saw was his normal, if slightly super-sized, erection.

Oliver scissored his fingers, testing the give as he again worried about the fit.  But Felicity stretched easily and she whined and whimpered unintelligibly, blissfully.  He added another finger and was treated to another moan of approval.

It isn't long, though, before Felicity started whimpering, “More…more…not enough…not nearly enough…”

This made Oliver pause, because he was pretty sure Felicity was saying that three fingers weren’t enough, but it felt like a pretty damn tight fit to him.  Lifting his head, he tried to meet her unfocused gaze.  “Are you sure?  I don’t want to hurt you.”

Felicity snorted, her head thrown back and her pupils blown.  "Oliver, take a look at your goddamn cock.  Another finger isn’t going to hurt me.”

Oliver couldn’t help but laugh.   And he did it against her clit, which Felicity seemed to love, so win/win.

Carefully, Oliver pulled out his fingers and curled in the fourth, sinking back in slowly and carefully, lifting his head just enough to watch her amazing body swallow him up.  _Damn_ if Felicity didn’t take them all easily.  Cleary, his body wasn’t the only one… _changed_.  Christ, it was sexy.  And the noises she was making…

“Ah…mmmm…yessss….”

This time, Felicity’s breathless murmurs held a note of relief.

Still fucking her slowly and deliberately, Oliver brought his mouth back to her clit with renewed vigor, sucking and working it with his tongue.  His fingers kept up a slow and steady rhythm as her cries increased in volume and pitch. 

But it was when they quieted and her hand spasmed in his hair, the thighs next to his ears starting to shake that Oliver knew Felicity was just a breath away from bliss.  Working on instinct alone, he flattened his fingers, giving her a greater stretch as he sucked hard.

Peering up over Felicity’s belly, Oliver watched with breathless anticipation as she caught fire.  Christ, it was glorious.  Beautiful.  Incredible.  And so _so_ satisfying.

The soft lights glinted of the sheen of perspiration covering her creamy skin, her tangled blond curls, and her kiss swollen lips, open now in wordless cries, beyond words, beyond reason.

When Oliver finally felt her muscles uncoil and melt back into the bed, he stood.  Okay, maybe, he _jumped_ to his feet as quickly as his well-honed reflexes could carry him.  Wrapping his hands around those toned thighs, he pulled them wider and…slammed home.

Only after did Oliver realize he had been too rough.

But Felicity’s response was just a sharp blissful, “ _Ahhh_ ,” followed by a delighted laugh. Her hands fell to the bed-sheets and curled into the fabric.  Her calves curled around his back, her heals bouncing off his ass…because he was already moving…Oliver just couldn’t help himself.  And he was making those growling sounds deep in his chest.  And he simply could _not_ control any of it.

Thank God, Felicity was smiling, staring up at Oliver with happy, unfocused eyes and a soft staccato of, “Oh…oh…oh…oh…”

And, still, he wasn’t deep enough. Oliver pulled her calves from around his waist and Felicity started to protest until she realized that he was draping them over his shoulders. Then she hummed her approval, grinding against him and arching her back.  It all did absolutely spectacular things for her breasts, which were still rosy from his scruff and the tight pink tips… _fuck_.

Leaning forward, somehow, not losing his rhythm in the slightest, Oliver closed his hands over the gorgeous mounds, capturing her nipples between his fingers and applying just enough pressure to make Felicity incoherent again.

Which was good, because Oliver was _damn_ close, and she was coming with him again, so-help-him God.

Felicity bucked and screamed and Oliver lost it.  He wasn’t exactly sure what happened after that.  There was nothing but her scent and her tightness and white-hot pleasure burning him up from the inside.

When his head cleared, Oliver was arched into her, miraculously still standing, his mouth around the calf that was still slung over his shoulder, the other having fallen to the crook of his elbow.  His first lucid thought was to thank God that he had had the presence of mind not to bite in that last moment as he was sure he would have broken skin.

Felicity lay, completely limp and blissed out, sprawled across the white silk sheets.  Oliver could feel his knot starting to swell inside her, locking them together once more.  Christ, it felt _so_ _much_ better inside her.  From the gentle humming that escaped her lips, Oliver had no doubt that Felicity agreed and it warmed him to his toes. 

Oliver didn’t have any energy left to worry about his body’s strange new habit.  In fact, he thought he was just about all worried out on the subject.  So he just let it happen, let the two of them enjoy the pleasant feelings that accompanied it, just as Felicity had told him to.  Whether she believed it or not, he usually _did_ follow her advice. 

Gently, Oliver placed her legs back on the bed.  Fatigue was already creeping through his bones and he had the urge to curl up next to Felicity and sleep for a month.  From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the comforter in a heap by his feet.  He managed to catch it and sweep it up, though it required some pretty fancy moves given his pelvis was currently fused to hers.

“Mmmm, Oliver,” Felicity murmured sleepily as the connection tugged between them.

It wasn’t a moan of pain, so Oliver decided to trust that it was a good feeling this time.  Felicity reached for him and he curled over her, humming, “Shhh.”  He rolled them more fully onto the bed with her settled on top of him, before sweeping the comforter over them.

“This is nice.  Can we stay like this?” Felicity mumbled against Oliver chest, rubbing her face against him like a cat and stirring a burst of affection.

Now that Oliver knew they could be unstuck without harming Felicity (or his dick), being locked together wasn’t so bad.   Actually, it kinda great.  It fulfilled this need he had to keep her as close as humanly possible for as _long_ as humanly possible.  

"Would you be upset if I said I kinda love this?” Felicity whispered after a minute.  "Being stuck, I mean."

Oliver chuckled.  Sometimes, it felt like she could read his mind.  “Just rest, Sweet.”  He pressed a kiss to her temple and allowed the sound of her breathing to lull him into the most restful, _natural_ sleep he’d had in months.

 

 

* * * * * * * * *

 

 

When Felicity woke up to the soft light of dawn she felt _damn_ good. 

Even her stretched and sore muscles felt warm and delicious.  How could anyone feel anything but safe and content with the warm mass of beautiful flesh that was Oliver Queen behind her, spooning her?  

Oliver’s hand was splayed possessively over her stomach and Felicity’s head was pillowed on that bicep that she’d had multiple naughty fantasies about over the time she’d known him, many of which had been fulfilled in the last twenty-four hours.

No, content wasn’t what Felicity was feeling.  Content was far too mild a word.  Ecstatic, wonderful, deliriously happy…these were better words.  Oliver’s scent surrounded her and filled her with a sense of home and happiness the likes of which she had never known before.  Felicity’s body hummed.

Only this time instead of making her aroused…uncontrollably, wildly, mindlessly aroused…it mostly made her feel cared for, _loved_. 

Felicity wasn’t going to get too excited about the prospect of the Heat being over, since she could still feel Oliver inside her from their last bout, only hours before, before the sun rose.

Time for her had become amorphous and impossible to pin down, but Oliver had an impressive internal clock and he figured she could rest at most three to four hours before the _burn_ would wake her again and Felicity would turn to him, the fog rolling in.  This last episode was not the first time Felicity had woken him during the night.  Though, he swore her scent alone had been enough to pull him from sleep the first time.

It had been quite the night and, while Felicity refused to be grateful to the bastards who had done this to them, she couldn’t deny that she had loved every minute of it.

But as Felicity lay there in Oliver’s embrace, she noticed something knew, something she hadn’t felt since before she had gotten in that limo.  She felt _sharp_.

Felicity’s mind felt clear and rejuvenated and not just like in an absence of drugs and Heat hormones way.  No that would be back to normal.  This was something else…

It was like when she had a fantastic idea and was totally in a programing zone.  Or when the team was in danger and she had a brilliant flash of inspiration.   When she held a piece of new tech in her hands and just _knew_ how to make it better.  It wasn’t a feeling Felicity got often, but it was something she remembered quite clearly since it was one of her favorite feelings in the world. 

Was it strange that Felicity was feeling this way while lying in bed after the best sex of her life?  But maybe Super Cock had more powers than she realized.  She snickered into her pillow, but even in her relaxed and lazy state, her mind was fully alert and she heard the soft ‘shinck’ of the hidden door opening as clear as day. 

She peered through half-closed lids to see Amy tip-toe in with a tray as large as she was.  Another thing Felicity hadn’t gotten used to yet was how flawless her vision was at a distance where, in the past, she would have seen nothing but a blur.

Felicity carefully shimmed out of Oliver’s arms, her inner muscles clenching involuntarily as his now soft cock slipped out of her, his knot having faded as they slept.  He gave a soft, sleepy, disappointed grunt, but by the time she had gotten to the edge of the bed, he’d flopped onto his belly and was snoring softly.

Biting back a grin of intense feminine satisfaction, Felicity pulled the comforter back over his naked body.  She had certainly tired him out.

The sheet and the hospital gown were still on the floor where Felicity had kicked them the day before and she paused a moment before deciding she’d take the silk sheet over that horrible torture garment any day.  Quickly wrapping it around herself, she turned to face the little girl.

Amy smiled shyly as she set the tray on the short white table and Felicity had a moment of sudden, perfect clarity.  She knew _exactly_ what she had to do.  After weeks of confusion, their path was…obvious. 

Smiling, Felicity softly, but with a bright tone, greeted, “Good morning, Amy.”

“Good morning, Miss Felicity.  I trust you had a good night?” 

Amy didn’t even blush.  After everything, she, somehow, managed to look at Felicity with complete innocence.  Did the girl have any idea what was going on here?  Did she _really_ not understand?

Or did Amy understand, but have a complete lack of normal modesty and embarrassment around sex?  What would it take to raise a child like that?  What would she have to witness that nudity and sex triggered…no reaction what-so-ever?  Surely, even children in nudist colonies would have _some_ reaction.  In fact, Felicity imagined they would carry a knowing look, not this doe-eyed innocence that was more appropriate to a Catholic orphanage than a… _sex lab_.

But regardless of the disturbing thoughts running through her mind, Felicity managed to smile cheerily at the girl.  “It was wonderful, thank you.”  Despite what Oliver said, Felicity had learned to be quite a good actress over her years with him.  It was only with Oliver and John that she couldn’t lie worth a damn. 

It wasn’t because Felicity didn’t feel kindly toward Amy.  In fact, Felicity felt a deep anger over what had been done to this child that rivaled the anger at what had been done to her and Oliver.

“I’m _so_ glad,” Amy replied, her eyes lighting up and a smile spreading across her face, proving to Felicity that she was the actress she knew herself to be. 

The girl looked nothing but pleased and 100% genuine.  It was possible that Amy was also just an exceptional actress, but every instinct Felicity had said that she believed everything she said.  Completely.

Carefully maintaining her non-threatening expression, Felicity knelt at the table.  “The food smells delightful.”  Then before Amy could reply, Felicity added, “And what about you?  Did you sleep well?”

Amy hesitated at that, blinking, looking almost taken-aback.  Had no one ever asked her about herself before?  Felicity sent the girl a soft, encouraging look.  She was rather good at the good-cop half of the interrogation team.  She wasn’t bad at the _bad-cop_ either.  As long as Wi-Fi was involved.

“I…I had a good night as well,” Amy finally answered, uncertain.  She had a confused look on her face, almost as if she weren’t sure if she gave the right answer.  As if they had gone off script and she wasn’t sure what to do next.

Felicity planned on asking some difficult questions.  She hadn’t thought that how the girl slept would be one of them.  Maybe a step back was in order.  “What did you bring us today?  I’m starving.”  She didn’t need Amy getting cagy already.

Looking relieved, Amy lifted off the dome of the tray and started pouring juice.  “We have orange pineapple strawberry juice today, specially formulated to restore electrolytes and provide the necessary vitamins for maximum performance during Heat.”

Felicity’s eyebrows flew up.  Only a child who had _no idea_ what she was talking about could say that so completely without innuendo.  It sounded as if Amy were preparing them to run a marathon, not have a… _sex marathon._

“Thank you.”  Felicity took the glass with an expression she hoped passed for gratitude and took a sip that turned into a gulp and, before she knew it, the glass was empty.  She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.  Though it made perfect sense given all the sweating…and the exertion…and the bodily fluids... 

But even if she weren’t parched, Felicity knew that she had to drink it anyway.  There was no choice.  But she really, _really_ hoped that this particular cocktail didn’t make her foggy again.  The Heat was bad enough.

Amy poured her another glass.  “Please, make sure that Mr. Oliver eats and drinks.  He will get sick if he doesn’t.”

“Of course, I’ll take care of him,” Felicity reassured, meaning it.  Oliver may be stubborn, but she was confident he would listen to reason.  She looked over the tray.  There was more food than usual, maybe due to their increased exertion.  A large basket of muffins.  A bowl of fruit salad that could feed thirty.  A tray of sliced cheeses and breads. 

Looking back at Amy, Felicity causally asked, “So, who takes care of you?”  She was careful not to look directly at the girl, to act casual as she selected a strawberry off the top of the salad and popped it into her mouth.  When Amy didn’t respond, Felicity snuck another look.  The girl was frozen, staring in confusion again.

“Amy?” Felicity prompted, her heartrate picking up.  There was something very strange going on here.

“Oh…I…we take care of each other here in Nirvana,” Amy recovered.  Poorly.   She still looked very twitchy.

Hmmm.  Felicity was sure they did.  Take care of each other, that was.  She was starting to think she wouldn’t like Amy’s life outside of this room.  Felicity grabbed a muffin, barely paying attention to what she picked.

“How nice.  Are your parents here?”

Amy licked her lips, her eyes skittering to the window.  “My…my father is here.”

What interesting phrasing.  Was Amy being careful of her wording so she didn’t have to lie?  “And your mother?”

The deer-in-the-headlights look got worse.  Then Amy’s eyes got a distant, almost sad look.  “The…my…my mother has passed on to her ultimate reward.”

“Oh.”  That made Felicity stop, the muffin halfway to her mouth.  “I’m so sorry.”  Here she was trying to manipulate the girl and thinking the worst of her when she was a just a grieving child.  Now Felicity felt terrible.  Poor Amy.

But the girl shook her head, her old bright smile regenerating on her face.  Though, maybe, it was a little forced now.  “I did not know her, I’m afraid.  Do not be sad, Miss Felicity.  We are all family here.”

All, huh?  Felicity wondered if Amy considered the captives ‘ _family_.’  If she did, then Felicity was seriously worried about Amy’s wellbeing.  Considering how ‘ _family’_ was treated.

Felicity looked down, in case her dark thoughts were obvious on her face, and took a bite of the muffin.  Banana nut.  “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“Oh yes, many.”

Real blood brothers and sisters or—oh _God_!  Felicity split the muffin out into her hand.  “Amy, this has peanuts!”

“Yes,” Amy replied, her eyes narrowing again in a bewildered expression.  This girl was really off her game today.

“I’m _allergic_ to peanuts!” Felicity hissed, trying to keep from yelling and alerting her super-protective boyfriend.

But the strange child just laughed.  “Oh, Miss Felicity,” she sighed, waving a dismissive and relived hand.  “You’re not allergic to anything anymore.  You have _no_ physical imperfections.”

Felicity’s eyes widened and she glanced over at the bed.  Oliver turned restlessly, but didn’t wake.  Her throat wasn’t itching and her breathing was normal, so what Amy said must be true.  _No_ physical imperfections?  This whole ‘better than human’ thing was going to take some getting used to. 

“Amy, what other… _abilities_ should we expect?”

She shrugged, not flustered at all by this question, which should have been a lot more difficult.  Perhaps Amy had been groomed for this one.  “We will start to see after your Heat in over.”  The girl straightened and rubbed her hands on a napkin.  “Please, remember to get Mr. Oliver to eat.”

Felicity nodded, absently, then when she realized Amy was leaving, called, “And how much longer will that be?  The Heat...how long will it last?”  Apparently, Super Serum didn’t make her speak more linearly.

“A couple days, I suppose.  Maybe more.” 

Was it her or was Amy more eager to leave than usual? Felicity tried to get in one more question, yelling, “But when will—?”

And, nope, Amy was clearly done answering questions.  She couldn’t get through the door fast enough.  Though she was polite enough to leave Felicity with a small wave and a sunny smile. 

They really needed to get out of this room and talk to an adult.

The door closed and Felicity collapsed back against the pillows, tossing aside the rest of the offending muffin.  Allergic or not, she couldn’t stomach the thing.

But Felicity hadn’t lied about being hungry.  She was absolutely _ravenous_ and quickly devoured a half dozen cheese sandwiches while she replayed the (short) conversation she had just had with Amy in her head.  She was feeling in no way mentally slowed by the juice or the sandwiches, so that was good.  If anything, it had energized her even further.

As she created another dozen or so small sandwiches for Oliver, a plan formed in her mind.  Rearranging things to bring him a plate, she added muffins (he wasn’t allergic, before _or_ after Super-serum-ing) and fruit to the plate. Then, taking a deep stabilizing breath, she poured him his least favorite, the juice.  The man needed his damn electrolytes and Felicity was willing to fight dirty to get them in him.

The dishes were difficult to balance with the sheet, so she let it fall off.  What did it matter anyway?  Felicity could already feel the telltale burn under her skin and the throbbing between her legs just from looking at Oliver asleep on the bed.  The Heat was starting to smolder again.

Carefully placing the food on the side-table, Felicity sat next to Oliver and ran a finger over the perfect golden skin of his back.  He was still resting peacefully on his belly.

“Mmmm,” was all the response she got.

Felicity leaned in and kissed his bristly cheek, murmuring, “Sweetheart?”

Oliver smiled without opening his eyes.  He just took a deep breath in before flopping bonelessly onto his back.  Only then did his sleepy eyes crack open.  He stretched his arms above his head, making the comforter ride low. It was quite the picture.  Felicity hoped it was one she’d get to enjoy every day for the rest of their lives. 

And, seriously, why was Oliver bothering with running a Fortune 500 company?  Who wouldn’t pay billions to see that sexy-ass grin on every billboard from Metropolis to Coast City?  And that was _before_ the no physical imperfections thing.

But Felicity was selfish enough to keep all this… _yumminess_ to herself, which was why it took all her strength to resist when he stretched a hand out for her and said in that panty-soaking (if she had panties, that was) voice, “Come `mere.”

Felicity managed to avoid Oliver’s pull, literally and figuratively, though she was pretty sure she was staring at him like the besotted idiot that she was.  “You need to eat and drink something first.”

Oliver pouted and, well, that wasn’t helping her resolve any.  It was a very un-Oliver thing to do, but given the number of times Felicity had _giggled_ over the last day, she couldn’t judge.  It seemed it was a time to reveal hidden parts of themselves.

Smiling, Felicity reminded him, “You’ve been expending a hell of a lot of energy, Mister.”  And unlike Amy, she did _not_ manage to keep the innuendo out of her voice.  She didn’t even try.

Oliver’s response was a leer and an eyebrow wag, making Felicity laugh.  So, she doubled her faux-sultry voice, because why the frack not, and said, “And I need you to keep up your… _energy_.”

Now, it was Oliver’s turn to laugh and he reached for her again.  “ _Felicity_ —”

“Nope.”  Felicity handed him a glass of juice instead, making Oliver frown and drop his hand.  Great.  Well, she didn’t think this would be easy.  Placing the glass down, she reminded herself that she had fallen in love with one of the most stubborn men on the planet and would have to live with that.

“Felicity, I don’t think—”

“Shhh,” Felicity leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on his lips to silence him.  They hadn’t been following the whisper rule much during Heat, what with being distracted and all, but there were things she didn’t want overheard.

Felicity trailed nipping kisses along his chin to his ear, where she whispered, “We need to cooperate, Oliver.  We need them to think…”  She sucked on his earlobe.  For effect, of course.  “…that we are perfect little solders now.”

Oliver’s arms flew around her, yanking her up and over top him and Felicity couldn’t help but let out a squeal.  But from his smile and the light in his eyes she could tell he wasn’t going to be that difficult to convince after all. 

He pressed a hard kiss against lips, murmuring, “And then…”

Felicity smiled, her new cat-like grin.  Knowing, just _knowing_ that Oliver got it.  “And then…”

“We burn this place to the ground.”

“To ashes,” Felicity whispered back, grinning, before their heads turned in perfect synchrony, their open mouths meeting and their tongues tangling. 

Sometimes, it almost felt like they could read each other’s thoughts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so wish this was where I left you all back in April, but as it is, the next chapter will be up next Sunday (it’s all set, I promise) and we will be moving on to the next phase of the story and mixing more plot in with the smut and romance.  ;-)   I’m kind of calling this the “Fall Season” of AKOI and you can expect an update every Sunday until Thanksgiving, at least.
> 
> For those of you who don’t already know, I didn’t leave the fandom these last five months.  I was working on _To Sacrifice the Sun_ (very angsty at the beginning, but, I promise, it’s worth getting through) and _Of Redemption and Inebriation_ (Finished!  Yay!)  If you liked this, check those out.
> 
> Thanks so much to my two wonderful betas: **Ireland1733 and** **Fairytalehearts**.  This puppy is a lot of work for all involved and I’m so grateful for their help and support!
> 
> If you liked this, please, leave a comment or (and J) kudos to let me know!   I appreciate all feedback (unless it’s mean for no reason)!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  


	11. The Other Side of the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family excursion today, so you're getting this a few hours early and without a real author's note. Enjoy!!!

Felicity’s Heat lasted longer than their mini jailer had anticipated.  Or at least longer than Amy _said_ she anticipated.  Oliver was not ruling out the possibility that the little devil’s spawn wasn’t actually a Juilliard level actress playing them all (read Felicity) like a fiddle.

Regardless, it had been five days and nights of _this_.  Of an endless sensual haze.  Of sleep, eat, fuck, repeat.

Except, the sleep was more like napping.  And the sex…the _sex_ was _so_ much more than fucking.

There was also talking and laughing.  A lot of laughing.  Oliver thought that, perhaps, he’d had more sex this week with Felicity than he’d had with his last three partners combined, but he was _certain_ that he had laughed more than he had in almost a decade.

Yet, it couldn’t last forever and the fact that a part of him wanted it to, scared the living daylights out of him.  When Oliver had a free, arousal- _light_ moment, Lotus Blossom analogies again popped into his head.  But even that didn’t kill his secret desire completely.

Felicity was still asleep, eight hours after their last bout, if Oliver’s internal clock was correct, and it generally was.  This was the longest she’d been able to rest since their sex marathon had begun.  It was more sleep, apparently, than Oliver needed, since he had been wide awake for over an hour now. 

As Oliver lay with her in his arms, peaceful and content, it took him awhile to realize that Felicity wasn’t going to wake him to make love to her this morning.  Not anytime soon anyway.  Even her scent had begun to fade.  It was no longer the sharp, powerful, delirium-inducing aroma.  It was still there, soft and pleasant.  God, he prayed it never left completely, he was utterly addicted to it.

The Heat must be winding down and the idea of that was like a knife to Oliver’s gut.  He _should_ be feeling relief, but…that was the last thing he felt.  And it was that thought that had him fleeing Felicity’s arms for the solitude of the shower.

It might not seem far.  Ten feet away in the next room, with only a curtain to separate them.  A curtain that Oliver didn’t even bother to close.  Yet, it was the furthest apart they had been since Felicity’s Heat had begun, five days prior.

They ate and slept and showered together.   Getting knotted together in the shower…quite an adventure.  But that particular problem was one that they had gotten excellent at solving.  It was amazing how well they could move as one when properly motivated.

Actually, they’d gotten good at a whole lot of things.  They had learned each other’s bodies, inside and out, in ways that might take other couples months or years to do…if they ever did.  Learned each other’s likes and dislikes.  Learned to like things in bed that they’d never considered or had even been put off by before.  Had had sex in more ways, more times than Oliver could count.

Though to be fair, the massive and inhuman number of orgasms had melted Oliver’s brain to the point where he was lucky if he could count to ten without missing a number.

After five days and five nights…soon to be six days as soon as Felicity woke, Oliver still could not summon one genuine wish for it to end.  He wasn’t tired or bored or restless.  He wasn’t sore or drained.  In fact, Oliver felt healthier, more energetic and _stronger_ than he ever had.  Clearly, this was part of the ‘Super-serum’ effects, because it certainly wasn’t normal.

But that wasn’t the scary part.  The scary part was wondering how long their Psycho Captors could keep them in this room before either Felicity or Oliver grew discontent or had any desire to leave.  Would that day even come?  Or would they become more and more entrenched and lost in each other?  Every day wanting to leave less and less? 

Because that’s how Oliver felt.  Every day he fell more impossibly in love with Felicity, felt more connected.  And it was wonderful.  And the idea of anyone disturbing their bubble…

Oliver didn’t want to share Felicity with _anyone_.  Not Amy or the creepy scientists on this fucking island, not with other captives.  At the moment, he didn’t even want to share her with Digg or Roy, and certainly not with the entire City of Starling. 

It was terrifying.  Oliver needed to get them out of here.  He needed to get Felicity home.  Even if his instincts were to keep her all to himself.

Because, like it or not, the last five days had been the happiest of Oliver’s life.  And how fucked up was that?  Apparently, he had to be abducted to finally find out what real happiness felt like.  What did that say about his life?

Oliver stood in the shower, his arms braced against the white marble wall and his head bent as he allowed the scorching hot water to beat against his skull and back, pounding into his muscles the way he had learned was soothing.  Back when his muscles actually _got_ sore. Even though he wasn’t working out, with some of the acrobatics they had engaged in, he should be feeling some burn, somewhere.  But there was nothing.

As he attempted to let the water wash away his jumbled thoughts, they wandered to the first island Oliver was on and he wondered what it might have been like if Felicity had been there with him.

If it had been Oliver and Felicity and no one else.  No Fryers or Ivo or Reiter.  No Slade.  Or even Sara.  Just them and the island and the biggest threat a bad thunderstorm or the rare feral Leopard Cat.  Maybe a nasty mouse.

Would Oliver have ever tried to leave?  Or would he have built them a Swiss family Robinson style tree-house?  Started a family?  Made pets of the mongoose and the tree frogs?

Standing there now, Oliver couldn’t find one flaw in the fantasy.  Well, except that it was selfish.

Because even if Felicity _did_ want to hide away with him on an island, and sans Heat hormones Oliver very much doubted she would, they weren’t the only people that mattered. 

But wasn’t that the appeal?  To only have to worry about the two of them and their pet mongoose?

Yet…there was also Thea, who needed her brother desperately right now, who had only come back to Starling because Oliver had begged her to and who was now all alone again.  He had spared her pitifully few thoughts these last few weeks.  He’d have to think about his sister more to work up his motivation to escape to where it needed to be.

And it wasn’t just her.  It was Digg, who would never stop looking for them, though Oliver had no idea if it was even possible to find them.  Digg, who had a child on the way and should be focusing on that, enjoying _that_ , not worried about him and Felicity.  Oliver imagined his friend tearing apart the city to find them, while simultaneously trying to hold it together without them.

Then there was Roy, newly recovered from his bout with Mirakuru…and Sara and Laurel and the entire Goddamn company that Oliver had just gotten back and…Felicity had a mother, he knew.  He’d never met her.  Felicity rarely mentioned her, actually, but he had overheard enough phone conversations to know that Felicity genuinely loved this faceless woman and that her mother would be devastated by her only child’s disappearance.

No, staying wasn’t an option...

What the _hell_ was he _thinking_?   Of _course_ , staying wasn’t an option!  This wasn’t Robinson Caruso.  This was a fucking abduction.  They had creepy little girls and drugged juice and giant men who didn’t talk and an endless supply of needles, _not_ talking parrots and friendly monkeys.

Oliver had an obligation to Felicity.   To burn this damn island to the ground.  To free any other captives.  Including Amy and any additional brainwashed children.  And bring this fucking Young asshole to justice.

 _This_ was the problem.  The Heat had messed with his head!  Yes, he _loved_ Felicity.  And, _yes_ , he was happy with her, but he needed to maintain perspective here.  There was too much at stake.

And, somehow, Oliver needed to trust that they could find some small piece of this happiness at home.  Trust that once the pheromones and the drugs and the isolation cleared, Felicity _wouldn’t_ come to her senses and realize that she was better off without him.

But trust wasn’t Oliver’s strong suit.  And while Felicity had earned it, the universe and fate, had not.

Oliver jerked as the shower curtain was whipped open, but, of course, it was only Felicity, gloriously naked except for a wide smile as she stepped in beside him without bothering to ask permission.  Not that he would ever protest.

“I leave you alone for like…20 minutes and you’re already back to brooding,” Felicity griped as she pulled the curtain closed behind her and stepped under Oliver’s spray of warm water, blocking it from his body and leaving him stuck in the cool air. 

There were many ways Oliver could have responded to that, many protests and sarcastic comments.  But his body only seemed to be able to react in one way.  A smile spread across his face and his hands closed around her waist, hauling her to him.  Which took care of the cold issue.  Quite nicely, as a matter of fact.

“Twenty minutes, huh?  How would you know?  You’ve been asleep for at least 8 hours.”

Felicity’s forehead wrinkled.  Apparently, she hadn’t considered this.  Her internal clock sucked.  She wrapped her arms around Oliver’s neck and leaned into him, asking, “Really?  When did you—?”

Oliver cut off her rambling with a kiss, because they could stand there and debate timelines and the height of the sun or he could kiss her.   There wasn’t really a question.  Felicity was naked in his arms, under a seemingly endless supply of hot water, and it had been _at least_ eight hours since he had kissed her.  That was far too long.

His lips slanted over hers, both of them opening instinctively for the other, the kiss instantly becoming deep and sensual.  It was their default setting these days.  As if every kiss was a continuation of one that had been paused just moments before.  There was no beginning or end, just brief rests before they took back up where they had left off.

If Oliver had his way, this would never change. 

Still, he had no intention of letting Felicity’s last comment go.  With one last gentle nip, he whispered against her lips, “And I wasn’t brooding.”  Oliver was far too happy to brood.

Felicity, however, was far from convinced.  “Oh ho…you most certainly were.”  She reached up to run a thumb across Oliver’s forehead.  “You don’t think I recognize your brooding forehead?  Even without the wrinkles?”

“I never had wrinkles,” Oliver protested, the vain statement flying out before he could filter it.  Vanity was something he had left behind on the Gambit and he liked to keep it that way.

But Felicity smiled indulgently.  “You did.  I know, because they’re gone.”  And it was hard to be annoyed when she was massaging Oliver’s forehead and scalp with her talented fingers.  “But even without them, I know when you are ruminating on dark thoughts.  Maybe even…finding ways to blame yourself for…something…anything.”

Somehow, that made Oliver both chuckle and frown at the same time.  It was both wonderful and frightening to be so _known_ by your partner.  Maybe he was brooding.  Just a tiny bit.

Felicity pressed a kiss to his frown and then pulled on his head so it came to rest on her shoulder and she could whisper in Oliver’s ear, “We have a plan.  It _will_ work.”

The shower had become their safe place.  The place where they went to plan and discuss their captors.  They could press tightly together and whisper secrets into each other’s ears and the rushing water would muffle the sounds enough to make them unintelligible.  And who was to say they were doing anything but whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears.

“Ah yes,” Oliver murmured back, with only a hint of cynicism in his tone, “cooperate.” 

That was their _entire_ plan.  Pretend to be love-sick sycophants completely sold on this whole Nirvana head-game, seduced by their Heat and ready to embrace their new _Powers_ or whatever, ready to take on their _Grand Mission_ to save the world.   As if there were a possibility that Young had anything good to offer the world.

Fuck.  Sometimes, Oliver wasn’t sure he would be able to carry it off without gagging, but then he reminded himself that he had played worse roles over the years.

“It’s a good plan,” Felicity insisted.

Of course, it was.  It was _Felicity’s_.  “I know.”  Oliver really thought it could work.  They both had experience keeping secrets and how hard would it be to play up being love-sick and not wanting to leave?  The easiest roles were the one that were founded on truth.  The only problem was… “It’s just not very efficient.  It’s going to take time.  A lot of time.” 

Weeks.  Maybe months.

“And that’s why you’re brooding?” Felicity asked, gently running her nails along Oliver’s scalp.  “You don’t want to be stuck here for as long as it will take?”

Oliver huffed out a laugh and looked away.  “I’m _brooding_ …”  Though, he still thought that word was an exaggeration. “…because I would happily stay here with you forever and there’s something wrong with that.”

Felicity’s eyes widened and she asked, “Being with me?”  But she didn’t look upset or step out of his arms, so Oliver knew she didn’t actually _believe_ that.  She was twisting his words to make a point, but his thoughts were already twisted enough.  He didn’t need her making them worse.

“You know what I mean,” Oliver muttered.  He really didn’t want to try and put words to the whole convoluted mess in his brain. 

But Felicity whispered, “Explain it to me.”

And, dammit, it looked like he didn’t have much of a choice.  And it annoyed him, because Oliver really thought Felicity knew _exactly_ what he meant.  “We can’t stay hidden from the world forever.  This isn’t Robinson Caruso,” he snipped.

But instead of being hurt as Oliver feared she would be, Felicity laughed.  “That sounds like fun.  Though, I don’t know how long I could go without Wi-Fi.  Would there be Wi-Fi?  Cause I’m all in if there’s Wi-Fi.  Or even a 4G signal.” 

Oliver almost smiled because it kind of filled him with a bubbly sort of warmth that there was even a part of her that would like to build a Swiss Family Robinson house and have a pet mongoose.   Even if it was mostly in jest.  But…

“That’s the point Felicity, it shouldn’t sound like fun.  We shouldn’t _want_ to be marooned together with no contact with the outside world.”  Oliver grunted and buried his face in her shoulder, thinking that it may be giving away too much if there were cameras in this room and he thought there probably were.  It was hard to control the emotions on his face when there were so many conflicting ones running through him.

Sighing, Felicity cupped the back of his head, holding it against the crook of her shoulder as whispered into Oliver’s wet hair, “What are you _really_ worried about?”

Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle, what _wasn’t_ he worried about?  He was beginning to doubt the anti-anxiety effects of the food were doing him a whole hell of a lot of good.  Of course, he mostly drank water.  He had to eat the food they provided, but he didn’t need to drink the juice. 

“Thea.  John.  Sara.  Laurel.  Your mom.  The company.  The city…need I go on?”

“I think a get the picture.”  Felicity pulled his head up from her shoulder to look him the eyes.  “I love that you care so much—”

“But?”

“But…there’s nothing we can do besides trust they can take care of each other until we get back.”  Felicity ran her nails through Oliver’s stubble and looked into his eyes.  “And we _will_ get back.”

Oliver almost believed her.  Oh, he believed that’s _she_ believed that and was grateful for it, but… _he_ knew all the horrible things that were out there. Things he never wanted Felicity to have to experience.  He knew there were no guarantees.  He knew that there was a possibility that they would never get home.

“And what if there is something in Starling they can’t handle without us?  What if we’re too late?  What if we miss something because—?”

A firm kiss stopped the whispered avalanche of words and Felicity said, rather firmly, “Okay, I think it’s time to shut down this anxiety spiral before it jumps the tracks.  It’s a good thing Amy’s already been here today.”

Oliver failed to see how being less upset about the situation would make the situation any better.  God _damn_ Happy Juice.  He frowned.  “I hate that that’s the solution.”

Felicity gave him a look that clearly stated that she was done debating and bounced up to her toes, a playful smile forming on her face.  She was dead set on changing the subject.  “Amy brought more than food and Happy Juice this time,” she wheedled.

Well, _that_ was interesting.  Also, Oliver had to smile at her use of his derogatory name for the drink.  “Really?  What?”

But Felicity shook her head.  “I want to show you.”

Apparently, the frown Oliver gave her in response was not what she was hoping for, because Felicity sighed.  “I guess Heat really _is_ over.”

And didn’t _that_ just feel like a kick to Oliver’s gut.  It took his breath away.  “What makes you say that?” he, somehow, managed to ask.  He knew it was fading, but he’d hoped it wasn’t _over_.  If Felicity said she didn’t want him anymore, he’d…he didn’t know what he’d do.

“The first clue,” Felicity lifted one brow, her lips tipping into a half smile, completely oblivious to his internal insecure mini freak-out, “is what Amy left.  The second clue,” she reached down and took Oliver’s semi-hard cock into her hand, “is that we’ve been standing here for more than five minutes and you haven’t screwed me against the shower wall yet.”

Yeah, well, if that was a problem for her…

“Keep that up and I’ll be happy to oblige,” Oliver murmured, his voice falling an octave as warm arousal spread threw him, originating at the hand gently stroking his dick.  _This_ was a distraction he could get behind.  And, maybe, he wanted to prove he could make Felicity scream even if she wasn’t in Heat.  Make her want him regardless of the circumstances. 

Pulling Felicity closer, Oliver rubbed her ass with intent.

But, whereas yesterday, Felicity would have moaned and pushed into his touch, already demanding Oliver fill her, today she wrinkled her nose, letting go of his cock with what could, at most, be described as an affectionate pat, and Oliver’s stomach sank.  The irrational fear that she wouldn’t want him anymore worming its way through him.

“See, that’s the other reason I’m thinking the Heat must be over,” Felicity said and Oliver wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the rest of that sentence, but a plan to seduce her and prove it could be just as good was already forming in the back of his mind.  “Because I can’t help but feel that I’d rather you washed my hair, we share some breakfast, and _then_ have you screw me into our nice soft bed.”

Felicity’s wicked smile and warm promises took the edge off Oliver’s panic, but the desire to claim her was still rising precipitously and he ran his teeth along her neck as he rocked his pelvis into hers.  He wasn’t _half_ -hard any longer.

“But the bed is so far away,” Oliver rasped in her ear, before capturing Felicity’s earlobe and spurring her to release a gratifying moan. 

“Yes, but…” 

Oliver hated that ‘but.’

Felicity’s head was arched back and her hands kneading his neck as she argued, “The thing is…two days ago getting knotted in the shower seemed sexy and fun, but today it just seems…dangerous and kind of dumb.”

Despite himself, Oliver found himself chuckling against her ear, but he wasn’t ready to give up.  “Dangerous can be sexy and fun.”

Her laugh was lighthearted and musical and soothed his nerves as surely as the breasts she rubbed against his chest.  She didn’t resist when Oliver pulled her back into a deep kiss.  It was just getting hot and sloppy when Felicity pulled back and Oliver found a bottle of shampoo pressed into his hands. 

Throwing Oliver a mischievous smile, Felicity turned her back to him and tossed over her shoulder, “Pretty please?”

Grunting, Oliver poured some of the fresh smelling stuff into his palm, thankful that it only seemed to amplify Felicity’s natural sent and not mask it.  At the moment, he might throw it across the room if it was the latter.

Felicity leaned her head forward to submerge her head under the warm shower spray and Oliver took a deep breath, reminding himself that she promised to resume their love making after breakfast.  That would give him all the time in the world to prove that it would always be spectacular for them, hormones or not.  Three orgasms minimum.  _Minimum_.

The water turned Felicity’s hair a dark honey color and it cascaded over her shoulders and down to the small of her back.  It was getting long, almost reaching her ass.  Fucking gorgeous.

Oliver really didn’t want to wait until after breakfast.  “You know I wouldn’t drop you,” he tried to say enticingly, but it came out as a grumble. 

Felicity shot a teasing look over her shoulder.  “I have complete faith in you, but there’s these things called tiles and water and, what’s the word?  Oh yes, physics.”

“Funny.”

Oliver shampooed her hair and tried to not let his insecurities get the better of him, to try to enjoy the little moans Felicity made when she closed her eyes and tipped back her head as he rubbed her scalp.

It was going to be okay, Oliver tried to remind himself.  Felicity still wanted him.  She just wanted breakfast too.  Then…no less than four orgasms.  Yes, that would make him feel better.

And washing her hair was rather intimate in and of itself.  A very boyfriend thing to do.  It was that thought that finally allowed Oliver to smile.  Running his fingers through her thick hair, he asked, “What _is_ your natural hair color?”  Because he had always wanted to know and as her boyfriend…her _mate,_ shouldn’t he _know_?

“Light brown,” Felicity murmured, not opening her eyes, looking a little too blissful for a woman just getting her hair washed and that untangled some of the knots inside Oliver’s gut.  “I think, anyway.  It’s hard to remember, it’s been so long since I started dying it.”

“You’ve been going blonde since you were a kid?”  Somehow, Oliver couldn’t picture a nerdy little Felicity wanting to go blonde.  At least, he always imagined her as a skinny, nerdy little girl.  With big glasses and a bright smile and a sharp tongue that could make the boys cower and the adults reel at her impressive vocabulary.  He might have put some thought into this.

“Oh no.  The first color was bright pink.”

And Oliver laughed out loud.  He added bubble gum pink hair to his mental image.  It was delightful.  

“You don’t believe me,” Felicity continued, obviously misinterpreting his glee.  “I was 12 and it was from a box I bought at Spencer’s on The Strip.  My mother was trying to get me to dress ‘prettier’ and wear make-up.  I decided Magenta hair was more my style.”

Oliver forgot his irritation over her dimmed interested in sex.  This was so much better.  Felicity never talked about her childhood _or_ her mother.  He wanted to know _everything_.  That need was so strong it shocked him. 

“I thought it was the twelve-year-old who was supposed to try to convince her mom to let her have make-up, not the other way around?”  Though, Oliver couldn’t imagine little Felicity doing so, even if her make-up skills were impeccable now.

A small frown marred her face, but Felicity’s eyes stayed closed and her face relaxed again as Oliver continued to wash her hair.  “Welcome to my childhood.”

“Was your mother horrified by the pink?” Oliver knew his certainly would have been and he wanted to know everything about this mystery woman who had shaped the woman he loved.  Any woman who had raised Felicity had to be remarkable.

“Nope,” Felicity sighed, a long suffering sort of sigh.  “She _loved_ it.  Pink was… _is_ my mother’s favorite color, she wanted to buy me lipstick to match.”

Oliver laughed again.  This just got better and better.  He really, really wanted to meet Felicity’s mother now.  After they got out of here, he was going to make it happen.

“After that, I pretty much dyed it black or really dark purple.”

Oliver’s hands stilled, because that was…really a surprise.  Felicity with black hair?  Somehow, the pink seemed realistic, but black…  “Seriously?”

“Oh yes.  And, then, I _did_ get lipstick to match.”

Oliver’s eyes widened.  Okay, maybe Felicity’s childhood…or, at least her adolescence, was something very different from what he had imagined, which had included knee socks and long braids and stacks off books.  So, maybe, he might have some sexy nerdy school girl fantasies.  Was there something wrong with that?  Looked like now he’d have to try a rebellious goth fantasy on for size.  Not that he needed fantasies with the real thing right in front of him. 

“I went directly from black to Platinum blonde my last year at MIT,” Felicity continued, seemingly unaware of his wandering thoughts.   “It took my hair years to recover.”

Felicity sighed and leaned back into Oliver, grabbing his arms to pull them around her and snuggle back into him.  Oliver wanted to ask why she went blonde in the end.  He was glad she did.  She was…just _meant_ to be blonde.  It matched her.  But he was afraid that wasn’t something she was ready to answer and that bothered him.  He hated thinking that there was something about her that was a mystery to him and, worse, a part she didn’t _want_ to share.

But instead of asking, Oliver said, “Why do I feel like I know even less about your past than you do about mine?”

“Because my past is boring,” Felicity returned, dismissively, and before Oliver could contradict that, _obviously_ , false statement, she accused, “And why do I think you are just trying to distract me from the fact that you are implying that my roots are showing?”

It was clearly _her_ that was deflecting, but Oliver wasn’t sure how hard to press.  There was a lot about his past that he hadn’t shared and if he was asked to do so…quid pro quo and all…that would definitely ruin the mood.   And he had those four orgasms planned.  Maybe five.

“Actually, I was pointing out how strange it was that you _don’t_ have roots.”

Felicity’s eyes snapped open at that.  “That’s weird.”  Then she relaxed back against Oliver’s chest, pulling his arms tighter around her.  “Not that I’m really surprised by anything anymore.  What’s keeping up a dye job?  Though, maybe, whatever they’re doing has slowed my hair growth—”

“It hasn’t slowed,” Oliver pulled his hands away from hers to drape Felicity’s long blonde tresses over her shoulders and arrange them over her breasts.  She was the picture of perfection.  “Do you think it’s eugenics?” he asked as the horrifying thought occurred to him.  “That they are trying to make everyone Aryan blonde?”  The thought made his skin crawl.

But Felicity turned to face him, shaking her head.  “You’re not blonde.  Not really.  Amy’s not blonde.  Brian’s not blonde…”

“Okay, I get your point,” Oliver cut in, chuckling, blowing out a relieved breath at her quick reasoning.   Thank God for her brain.  Because…trying to genetically change what they looked like to make them fit some ideal…that was a whole new level of creepy repulsiveness.

“And your beard is actually coming in ginger.” Felicity gave him a little smirk as she trailed her nails through it.

Oliver ran his own hand over his chin.  His whiskers _were_ getting long.  Longer than they had been since he got off goddamn Lian Yu.  Fucking islands.  He’d had his fill of them.  “They must have been trimming it during treatments.  Maybe they _are_ dying your hair.”  God, he hoped so.  It was the simplest, least disturbing answer.

“Well,” Felicity reached over and turned off the water.  “Lucky for us, Amy brought you a beard trimmer amongst our goodies this morning.”

“ _Really_!”  Oliver’s eyebrows shot up, because that was more shocking than Felicity’s lack of roots.  A beard trimmer was electronic.  Something that had been denied them.  There might be something they could use in it to help them escape. 

Felicity opened the curtain, and giving him one last, way too short, kiss, stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel.  “I left it on the counter for you.”  Then, rubbing her hair dry, she flounced from the room, naked as the day she was a born, a little swing in her step.

Tease.  Oliver was _so_ screwing her into the bed after breakfast.  So help him God.  Five orgasms.  Six would probably be pushing it, but he could definitely manage five without Heat.  Right?  Four was probably more realistic, but…

Okay, he needed to stop obsessing over this and get himself together.  It only took Oliver a moment to dry himself off and turn to look at himself in the mirror.  Yup, this was beyond a little scruff.  Not attractive.

“Are you trying to tell me you aren’t turned on by my mountain man look?” Oliver called out.  He was just teasing, of course.  Nothing insecure about it.   He was a completely secure healthy young…ish man.  And he was going to stop thinking about that any second now.

“Only that my thighs really enjoy the short scruff,” Felicity yelled, making Oliver groan and his still half-hard cock twitch.   That was a _really_ good answer.

“Do you always talk this filthy?” Oliver called back, because he really needed a warning if this was going to be common place.  And he needed a plan to encourage it if it wasn’t.

“Out loud or in my head?” came the voice from the other room.

And this time Oliver really did laugh.  God help a man in love with a quick witted woman.  “Don’t you mean on purpose or _not_ on purpose?”

“Touché,” was Felicity’s response and it made Oliver inordinately proud.  “And you answered your own question.”

Still chuckling, Oliver picked up the electric trimmer and turned the device over in his hands, looking for something they could use.   There was nothing sharp he could pull off, not at first glance.  He clicked it on.  He was going to have to have Felicity look at it closer tonight to see if there were any mechanical parts of value.

After trimming his beard to the short length they, apparently, both liked, Oliver walked back into the bedroom, not bothering with a towel.

And what Oliver saw had him stopping in his tracks.  “Whoa!”

“Ta da!”  Felicity announced, holding her hands out wide.  “We got clothes.”

“You sure did,” Oliver muttered, feeling like he was going to choke on his tongue.  He wasn’t half hard anymore.  Not by a long shot.  No pun intended. 

Felicity was wearing this white, lacy, flowy _thing_ …dress…yes, one would probably call it a _dress_ , though, ‘confection’ was the word that came to mind.  Besides the fact that there wasn’t a whole lot to it, it really shouldn’t be as sexy as it was.  It wasn’t tight or clingy or anything.  It was almost…innocent.  With loose short-sleeves and a skirt that flowed from over her breasts to her mid-thighs.  It wasn’t even low cut.  But it certainly had Oliver salivating. 

Then Felicity twirled, clearly intent on showing off the first piece of clothing she’d gotten to wear in a month.  Her hair was tied back with a thick white strip of lace and…oh fuuu…God in heaven…

“No underwear?” Oliver rasped out.

And while he had stared at great length at the beautiful girly parts that the dress… _barely_ …hid, the peek he got when Felicity twirled drove him insane with lust.  There was no way he was going to be able to wait until after breakfast.  He needed to get his hands on her.  _Now_.

“Alas, no,” Felicity giggled, rocking on her bare feet, clearly pleased with Oliver’s reaction.  She even had the gall to flick her eyes to his very obvious erection and lick her lips.  “Though you don’t seem to mind.”

Felicity _knew_ they weren’t making it through breakfast now.  She had to.  Oliver could feel the growl building in his chest and let it out with a, “Come here,” lunging for her.  Breakfast later.  Screwing into the bed _now_!

But the damn woman danced out of his reach.  “They left you clothes too,” she teased, scooping up more white fabric, something Oliver couldn’t care less about.  “Well, pants.  They left you white silk lounge pants and, oh lord, I can’t wait to see your ass in these.”

Felicity made a move to hand them to Oliver, but must have caught the look in his eye, because she stepped backward instead, tossing him the pants, a playful light in her eyes.  Seriously, what sort of game was she playing?

Oliver caught the pants easily and promptly threw them on the bed.  “You can see them later.” 

Much later.  Oliver wanted to devour her and it took all his strength to keep himself from tackling her and doing just that.  But he continued stalking forward, focusing on keeping his steps _and_ his breath measured.

And Felicity just kept skirting backwards, around the bed, _giggling_.  “I think we should talk about this.  If we’re getting clothing that probably means that we’re going to get to leave this room.”

“All the more reason to get to the screwing _now_.”  Felicity _had_ to want this.  If she didn’t, Oliver might just cry.  Her face was flushed and her breathing was harsh.  So, she _must_ want this.  She was just teasing, right?  For fun.  Felicity was very playful at heart.

Felicity tried to dash out of his reach, musical laughter following behind her, but by this point she had cornered herself on the other side of the bed and Oliver caught her by the window.  Laughing, she tried to twist out of his grasp, but she seemed to be enjoying herself thoroughly, rubbing against him in a way that might be considered wantonly.  She was diving him insane. 

All Felicity’s wiggling got her was pressed full length against the floor to ceiling window, with Oliver’s cock pressed against her silk covered ass.  He rubbed his hands over the smooth material, ghosting it over her skin, and Felicity moaned, her body pressing against the cool window but her head falling back onto his chest.

“You’re insatiable,” Felicity accused, but if she really wanted him to stop she probably shouldn’t have used a tone that sent prickles of arousal over Oliver’s skin. 

Or reached behind her to dig her fingers into his thighs.  Oliver didn’t care how many times they’d had sex in the last five days.  He didn’t care that the Heat was over.  He needed Felicity again.  He needed her now.  Needed her like he needed air.

“Is that a problem?” Oliver asked against her neck, placing biting kisses everywhere he could reach.  Please, don’t let that be a problem.  He really needed Felicity to be as insatiable as he was.

The happy laughter that followed was answer enough.  Well, mostly enough.  And her ass grinding into his cock made it clear that they were not making it to the bed.  Not a problem.  That more than worked for him.  Oliver loved this position.  When he made Felicity scream her pleasure against the window, he felt like he was claiming her for all the world to see.

Which was ironic since Oliver also wanted to snap the neck of anyone who dared to look at her.  And the idea of anyone else seeing her naked sent him into an internal rage.  Luckily, there was no way anyone out on that island could see them all the way up here.

Oliver ran his hands up to cup her breasts, pulling the loose fabric tight around them and found her nipples already tight and puckered.  He couldn’t wait to see how wet Felicity was…she had _better_ be dripping.  Her scent was swelling.  But first, he ran his blunt nails over the tips of her nipples, making Felicity whimper and her hips buck back.  Then he found the spot she loved where her shoulder met her neck…

It took Oliver a moment to realize that Felicity had suddenly gone stiff.  And not in a good way.

“Oliver?”

And, God _dammit_ , there was nothing sexy in her voice either.  Christ, Oliver missed Heat already.  What was he doing wrong?  Grunting with frustration, he increased his attention to Felicity’s nipples.

“Oliver, stop that, you’re distracting me. _Look_!”

He was _trying_ to distract her…but Felicity pushed Oliver’s hands away from her breasts and pointed her finger out the window, toward the beach.  “Out there…do you see?  God, I think my eyesight has gotten even better.  I think…”  She squinted her eyes.  “I think there are people out there.”

That was enough to, mostly, pull focus from his cock…and his disappointment.  Oliver’s arm wound around Felicity’s waist as he strengthened, his focus now on the path of her finger.  “Jesus Christ.  There are people out there,” he repeated, stupidly.

But, more important, who were they?  Other captives?  Potential allies?  Or an army of enemies?

“Right?” Felicity bit her lip, her eyes shining as they moved quickly over the landscape.  Oliver could see her clever mind working.  “There, on the beach.”

And on the trails and…there were _trails_ into the woods.  Oliver hadn’t been able to see that before.  Everything was clearer, like someone had turned on a magnifier.  “Yeah…there’s a man and a woman on the beach…I think she’s wearing a dress like yours.” Which would probably make them captives…but ones that were allowed to roam the island?

Felicity shot him a look, her eyebrows raised.

Oliver shrugged, having no idea what that look was for. “I’m sure you look better in it,” he guessed.

Felicity rolled her eyes and hit his arm in a halfhearted kind of way.  She turned her eyes back to the beach, squinting again.  “I can’t see what they’re wearing.  All I see is two figures moving…you can really see them _that_ clearly?”

Nodding against the top of her head, Oliver leaned in over her shoulder, trying to get the best look he could.  “She has red hair.”  Dear God, they must be another couple.  “And I think he’s blonde with white pants.  Can you see the—?”

“Good morning, Miss Felicity, Mr. Oliver!”

And…there was Amy with her usual perfect timing.  Sometimes, Oliver had trouble not hating the child and her irritating sing-song voice. 

Groaning, Oliver’s forehead fell to Felicity’s shoulder.  So no screwing into the bed after all.  Before _or_ after breakfast. But then again, maybe they’d get to go outside like the other couple.  And the fact that he’d still choose the bed was not a good thing.

“Be nice,” Felicity whispered, running her hand over the back of his head.  “Remember the plan.”

Grunting, Oliver glanced behind them and tried not to scowl.  “Oh great, Tweedle Dee too,” he muttered, low enough for only Felicity to hear.  Hopefully.

“It only increases the likelihood we’re getting out,” Felicity whispered, twisting out of his arms with a smile.  So, clearly, she’d choose the walk on the beach to the screw on the bed, which shouldn’t be as depressing as it was.  “Put on a smile and put on your pants.”

Oliver tried not to scowl as he reached over and snatched up the pants he had so casually discarded before.  At least their jailers were kind enough to annoy away his erection.  Bastards.

“Good morning, Amy, Brian,” Felicity sang.  Lovely.  Did she have to _sound_ like the kid?  Oliver could only stand so many sing-song voices.  “Thank you so much for our presents.”

Oh, yes, thank you for imprisoning us and after a month of no clothing, giving us a single item each.  How _very_ generous.

“Do you like them?  You look lovely in that dress, Miss Felicity.”

Casting him a glance, Felicity grinned. “Well, Oliver certainly seems to like it.”

Well, that was true enough.  Oh well.  Showtime.  Time for Oliver to do his best Stockholm Syndrome impression.  God, this sucked.

Oliver tied his pants and put on his most charming smile, turning to stride over to the mini-jailer.  “My girl looks beautiful in anything,” he drawled with a wink, making a show of kissing Felicity’s cheek as he passed her on his way to Amy.  “And the pants are very comfortable.  Thank you, Amy.”

Placing a hand on the child’s shoulder, he leaned in a bit and gave her the very smile he had learned at five-years-old could get pretty much any female in creation to give him whatever he wanted.  He’d only perfected it since.

Amy sort of…melted.  It was the usual reaction.  It was his innate Queen Super Power.

“My, aren’t you pretty?” Amy sighed, her eyes getting dreamy.

Behind him, Oliver heard a muffled giggle and saw Felicity smothering it with a hand over her mouth.  He wasn’t sure if he were ashamed or proud of his ability.

Throwing Felicity a warning look, because he sure as hell wasn’t going through this stupid charade to have Felicity ruin it because she couldn’t control her laughter, Oliver turned back to Amy and concentrated all his charm…charm Felicity had _insisted_ he use, on their mini jailer. 

“Amy, Felicity, here, has her heart set on seeing some new scenery and stretching her legs a bit.  As much as we _love_ our room, is there anything you can do?  I like to keep my girl happy.”  Oliver thought, maybe, he threw up a little in his mouth as he said it, but Amy looked completely convinced and not at all disgusted by the playboy line, so he must have sold it.

Amy nodded her head almost frantically, her face almost split in two with the width of her smile.  “Oh yes!  Of _course_ , Mr. Oliver.  Now that your Heat is over I’m sure you want to get out at bit.  In fact, that’s why we’re here.” 

Okay…huh…well, that was one war they, apparently, hadn’t had to fight.  But the most important part was still to come.

Leaning toward her, Oliver kept one eye on Brian, who was staring stonily ahead, and asked quietly, “Can I tell you a secret, Amy?  I don’t think I could stomach letting my Omega out of my sight.”  And the fact that he didn’t choke on the word ‘Omega’…well, Felicity had better stop calling him a terrible actor.  Though, if they did try to separate them, Oliver’s Alpha rage would be a thing to behold.

Nodding as if she under stood perfectly, Amy told him with utmost seriousness, “We wouldn’t _dream_ of separating you two so soon after Heat.  Dr. Ann will have to…” Then she trailed off, casting a guilty look at Brian, almost as if she had almost said something she wasn’t supposed to say.

It left Oliver to wonder what the end of that sentence would have been.  He really didn’t like the way Amy had said ‘so soon after Heat.’ It implied that there was a time when they would be separated and that was just not okay.  He couldn’t imagine the need to keep Felicity close was going anywhere.  Heat or no Heat.  If they thought they were going to pull Felicity away from him for more treatments…or even a walk around this Goddamn island…they had another thing coming.

But, somehow, Oliver kept his thoughts hidden and Amy swallowed, but her smile came back.  One had to look very carefully to see that it was forced.  This girl was a stellar actress.  Oliver would bet his fortune on it.

“I’m to take you to see Dr. Ann now,” Amy told them and Oliver exchanged looks with Felicity.

This was what they had been waiting for.  They were getting out of this room.  Awake.  Maybe even out of the building like the redhead and her…mate.  So, why did Oliver want to shove the rug rat and her bodyguard out the door and bar it behind them?

“But we haven’t eaten yet,” Felicity argued and Oliver had to wonder why she was doing so.  Was she feeling the same reluctance to leave that he was?  But then Felicity popped a piece of muffin in her mouth and handed him the rest.  Damn woman, she knew he’d have to eat it with their guards watching.

“Oh!  That’s all right.  I can bring you refreshments while you chat with Dr. Ann,” Amy assured.

Well, that seemed to settle that.  Might as well get this over with.  Oliver tossed the remnant of the muffin onto the tray and held out a hand to Felicity.  “Then by all means, lead the way,” he told Amy, smiling his high society smile.

As Felicity’s hand folded into his, the door slid open.  Oliver was careful to keep her between him and the stone-like guard, resisting the urge to growl at Brian as they stepped past into the anti-chamber.  Instead, Oliver threw a playboy-tipping-the-bouncer smile at the asshole and tried to ignore how the whole thing made his skin crawl. 

Using an old Ollie move, he twirled their entwined hands over Felicity’s head and settled his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer and tucking her into his side.

Felicity just melted into him, so, either, she wasn’t as skived out by his Ollie routine as he thought she would be, _or_ she was a hell of a lot more nervous than she was letting on.

When the door shut behind them, trapping them in the small chamber with their two jailers, Oliver felt Felicity blow out a breath and he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, trying to convey to her that he would protect her.  He _would_.  So help him God.  So help _them_ if they tried to hurt her.

The other side of the wall opened.  It didn’t seem like they had moved, so perhaps it _wasn’t_ an elevator, but this place was so technologically advanced, who knew.  Amy stepped out, looking back at them excitedly and gesturing for them to follow.

The girl was in a long, wide hallway, still stark white because, apparently, they were allergic to color here.  Holding Felicity to him Oliver stepped though and…

But it wasn’t an _empty_ hallway.

Felicity sucked in a hissing breath.  One he could barely make out in the noise of the corridor.  Oliver squeezed her hand and pulled her still closer to him.

Because, no, the hallway wasn’t empty.  It was fairly bustling with people.  And very few of them had _un_ familiar faces.

There were cheery Amys busting past, talking animatedly to whoever was near them. 

 _Literally_.  A half dozen _Amys_. 

And Dr. Anns, in lab coats, with tablets in hand.  Unsmiling, silent, hulking Brians.  Far too many of them.  There was a fourth face.  A gangly, teenaged boy.  There was more than one of him too. 

And as they stood there, frozen, two dozen _more_ doppelgangers passed by.  All with the same four faces. 


	12. Multitudes of Amys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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Felicity was right.  Oliver’s ass _did_ look fantastic in those white silk lounge pants, just as she knew it would.  Not that there was a garment on Earth that could make it look bad.  It made her wish that she had taken him up on his sex in the shower plan.  Now, it would be God only knows how long until she got her hands on him.

And, apparently, after weeks of nakedness, clothing had become a turn on.  It was an interesting social experiment, the way things turned on their head in these strange circumstances.

Like for example, another very unexpected turn on…suave, mega-charming Oliver.

Felicity had hated it when they first met, especially after she had joined the team, the way Oliver would turn on those super-fake playboy whiles…it gave her the willies.  It was so… _calculated_.  So…not Oliver.  Well, not _her_ Oliver.  Her Oliver was awkward and a great big shy puppy.  Ollie was something, someone…she never would have had the desire to know.

But when he turned the charm on Amy, it kind of made Felicity melt a little.  Maybe it was because, although she knew he was pretending and that he didn’t trust their “mini-jailer” as he called her, Oliver’s eyes weren’t cold anymore.  Not like they were when they first met.  The hard man she’d once known was gone and even though she knew he was manipulating Amy, Felicity also knew that he _did_ care, that he would free the little girl from this place if given half the chance.

Or, maybe, it was just that Felicity was seeing how incredibly good Oliver could be with kids and that did something to her.

Now, the playboy look Oliver threw Brian…that was the old creepy Ollie.  But Felicity couldn’t blame him for that.  Brian was about a gazillion times more sinister than Amy and Felicity had zero sympathy for the thug.  Also, he didn’t seem to have two brain cells to rub together. 

But, then again, that could all be an act too.  For all they knew, Brian could be a genius.  Hell, he could be a robot.  Not an AI.  That would imply intelligence.  Actually, Felicity would believe that he was a robot over him being a genius.  His gaze was just too vacuous.

But all that fled her mind the minute the door opened and, suddenly, Felicity was nervous.  Scared, almost.  Wishing that she had prioritized breakfast.  Or at least had a great big glass of Happy Juice since it seemed that more and more of that particular drink was needed to have half the effect it had when they had first arrived on the island.  But then her stomach flipped and clenched.  Maybe it was a good thing they’d skipped breakfast, because that half of a muffin felt like lead in her belly.

Felicity wanted to go out there.  She _did_.  All the answers were out there.  There was nothing in this room except…

Comfort…

Safety…

Mind blowing sex…

Frack.  They couldn’t lie around having sex forever.  They needed to go _home_.  For all the reasons Oliver had stated and more.  And the first step was to leave this room.

Felicity was obscenely grateful for Oliver’s hand in hers, because she, honestly, wasn’t sure she could make her feet move without it.

It helped even more when Oliver swung his arm, fingers still weaved through hers, around her shoulder in a move right out of a cheesy 80s movie.  Felicity didn’t know if she would ever admit to how comforting it was to have him wrapped around her like this.  She felt tiny tucked into his side and she shouldn’t like that, but she did.

Though, maybe it was just the comfort of her cheek pressed against his bare chest.  Because Felicity was almost entirely certain that the skin on skin comfort thing wasn’t just a normal human touch, we’re-so-in-love thing.  She thought it more likely that it was an actual scientific phenomenon.  A function of all this Alpha Omega crap.

The door closed, trapping them in the antechamber and Felicity blew out a breath.  She felt Oliver’s lips pressed into her hair and she could feel his determination to protect her and wished that alone could comfort her. 

But they had no idea what was out there.  _Who_ was out there.  Or how many. Oliver might be a skilled fighter, he might even be… _enhanced_ now, but he had no bow, no weapons of any kind.  No friends. 

All they had was their combined intellect and charm (mostly Oliver’s) and it was going to have to be enough.

Then another door opened, this one mirroring the first, and a hallway appeared.  And when Felicity saw what was in that hallway…

Felicity had no idea what she expected, but in a million years she never would have thought of… _this_.

There were six Amys.  Exactly Amy.  Not a close match.  Perfectly, identically, unequivocally Amy.  Felicity’s eyes flew between their Amy, the one that had led them out of the chamber and who was still smiling her familiar smile, and the other girls gliding down the hallway.  Even their clothes were the same.  And then two more Amys came around the corner and if she weren’t so shocked, Felicity probably would have hyperventilated.  But she was having trouble believing she was awake.  This closely resembled a nightmare.

But there were also three Dr. Anns.  Felicity hadn’t seen Dr. Ann in over a month, but there she was…and there…and there again.  Oh dear _lord_.

Another four Brians, in addition to the one standing stiffly behind them.  All of them looking equally menacing and vacuous.  Guess he wasn’t a twin after all.  Huh.  Dear God.  This was surreal.  Look at that.   He was…he was a _clone_.  They must _all_ be clones.

Goddamn mother frackin’ Dr. Young and whatever Nazis cronies he had working for him were _cloning_ people.  Then he was programing them and keeping them as…as _slaves_.  How very Emperor Palpatine of him.  Ha!  That was a good one…oh _God_.  Felicity was going insane.  She was losing her fracking mind.

Just when Felicity felt like she was getting a handle on this whole crazy mess, the whole thing turned on its head and made her question… _everything_.

Was this why Amy got so cagy when Felicity asked about her mother?  Did she even _have_ a mother?  Probably not in a traditional sense.  Was she created and born in a lab, in an artificial womb?  Or…oh God, did they kidnap woman to ‘host’ these children.

But there were so many of them.  The clones in this hallway _alone_ numbered in the dozens…there could be hundreds…

Felicity’s heart rate picked up even further.  Also, it seemed, Hyperventilation wasn’t off the table after all.  They couldn’t have kidnapped _her_ to…host a child?  Oh God, _please_ , not that. 

Okay, Felicity needed to be reasonable.  Think this through.  Because that didn’t make sense.  Why would they take Oliver too if all they needed was a host woman for their clone babies?  And why would they take people so high profile?  Surely, they would kidnap women with no family or friends if that was all they wanted? 

It was all so… _sick_. Felicity’s mind was going too fast.  So many options whizzing through and weaving together and splitting apart.  She felt dizzy.

And then there was this fourth face.  A teenaged boy with dark hair as well.  So, definitely not an Aryan thing.  That was a small comfort.  Sort of.  Lord, who _cared_ what color hair the stupid clones had?  Was Felicity trying to make sense of something that had no sense?  Was Dr. Young just so insane that he would randomly play God just because he could?

But what about…okay, there was something else really strange.  It took Felicity a minute to realize it, but…they were all the same age.  Well, four ages.  And Felicity calculated them to all be about five years apart.  Were they hatched in batches?  Oh, that was _beyond_ bizarre.  It sent a shiver up her spine and made her queasy with disgust.  Why would they _do_ that?

Amy could be a young Dr. Ann and the teen could be a young Brian.  Maybe the Brians were the first experiment, a _failed_ experiment, given their muteness.  And every five years, Young, or whoever the hell was in charge of this circus, tried to improve upon the last batch.  Maybe?  And that would mean…

Was there a group of five-year-old boys roaming the island?

A nursery full of baby girls?

Or…oh _God_ …were Felicity and Oliver there to provide the genetic material for the next generation of clones?

Felicity hadn’t even realized how hard she was breathing until she felt Oliver squeeze her shoulder.   His lips pressed to her temple as he whispered, “Breathe.”

So, _there_ was the hyperventilation.  It took longer than she expected, so maybe the Happy Juice still had _some_ affect. 

Felicity took a shaky breath and Oliver murmured against her hair, “We have to move.”

Giving him a nod, Felicity managed, somehow, to take a measured breath and willed her feet to take a step forward, allowing Oliver to guide her down the hall.  He functioned better with stress, with anxiety, than she did.  She wasn’t used to it anymore and she hadn’t eaten since last night and whatever they were drugging them with didn’t seem to last anymore. 

Down the hallway, past more and _more_ clones, Amy… _an_ Amy…their original Amy (probably?) led them into a small conference room.  The Brian, thankfully, didn’t follow them inside.  Good.  He made both Oliver and Felicity jumpy, even when there was only one of him, reminding them both of the Mirakuru soldiers.  Perhaps Young’s first experiments concentrated a bit too much on strength and not enough on anything else.  God, there could be a _hundred_ Brians out there.  It was terrifying.

Oliver led Felicity to chair and pushed her into it.  It wasn’t until she was sitting that she realized that she was trembling and _then_ another Amy appeared next to their Amy…if they even had _an_ Amy, maybe they had a rotating _group_ of Amys…and the breathing Felicity had just started to control rapidly got away from her again.

Standing behind her, Oliver’s hands fell on her shoulders and squeezed, but his eyes were on the doppelgänger children.  “Amy, you and your friend look an awful lot alike.”

Ha! The understatement of the century.  So Oliver was going with stating the obvious, then?  Interesting choice.  Also, how did he keep his voice so calm and measured?  Felicity wished he’d teach her that trick.

“Oh yes.  She is my sister,” Amy responded, as if that wasn’t the freakiest thing on the planet.  As if it were normal to have _dozens_ of identical sisters.  The two girls looked at each other, smiling the same bright smile, and then back at Oliver. 

Felicity shivered as a chill ran down her spine.  Oliver cleared his throat, his voice a tad less measured when he asked, “Do you have a lot of… _sisters_?”

Somehow, Amy’s smile widened.  “Oh my yes.  We are never lonely here.”

Felicity couldn’t imagine they would be.  Not with multiple _yous_ running around. Could they read each other's minds?  That was a scary thought.  Did they have… _enhancements_ as well?

Amy turned to… _Other_!Amy and asked, “Amy, can you get some refreshments?  I believe Miss Felicity would do well with some of our Watermelon-Strawberry juice and Mr. Oliver is fond of cheese sandwiches.”

“Protein,” Oliver added, almost defensively.  Though, Felicity knew that he thought it was harder for them to drug the cheese.

“Of course.  I will be right back.”  Other!Amy even had the same voice.  If it wasn’t for small differences in their all white clothing it would be impossible to keep track of who was who.  She even scurried from the room with the same bounce to her step.

“Are you all named Amy?” was Oliver’s next question and it almost made Felicity choke.  She had been so busy calling them all ‘Amy’ in her head that it hadn’t even occurred to her how strange it was that they were calling _each other_ the same name.  Like they were the same person or something.

“Of course.”

 _Of course_.  Of course, they were all Amy.  That wasn’t bizarre at _all_.  Wouldn’t want them to have any individuality or, say, an identity.  “How do you tell each other apart?” Felicity managed to ask, surprising herself by finding her own voice.

Amy didn’t seem at all phased by Felicity’s question _or_ her apparent nervous breakdown. “We just do.”

Oliver’s hands squeezed her shoulders again as he asked, “So are you _our_ Amy, or do you rotate or something?”

And even though that thought had occurred to her, thinking about it now, that Felicity had been getting attached to a little girl who may have actually been _multiple_ girls, maybe even a different girl _each_ time…it made her stomach turn over.  It was hard to even wrap her head around it.

Felicity was so busy freaking out that she almost missed Amy saying, “No, it’s always been me.  I’m your personal Amy.”

Oh good.  They had a _personal_ Amy.  A hysterical laugh burst from Felicity’s mouth.  They were living in a cuckoo clock.

“Good to know,” Oliver muttered, looking down at Felicity with concern. Which was wise of him.  To be concerned.  This may just be the thing that made her brain explode.

But before anyone could say anything more, Other!Amy returned, and, oh good, she brought a friend…Other!Other!Amy.  Now they had three Amys.  That wasn’t crazy.  Nope. 

They were like tribbles.  They just kept multiplying.    

Oliver stepped forward to take the tray out of…one of the girls’ her small hands and the third girl placed a pitcher of juice next to the tray.  And, while Felicity appreciated Oliver’s chivalry and commitment to his role, she really wished he hadn’t this time, because it left her without his skin touching hers and her anxiety immediately skyrocketed again.  

She was just starting to get dizzy from the hyperventilation when Oliver pressed a glass of juice into her hands.  Wow, he worked fast.  And, also, Felicity must really look bad if he _wanted_ her to drink the Happy Juice.

Felicity gulped down the drink and then placed her hands on Oliver’s bare back to steady herself as he gathered food for them.  Stupid that she hadn’t thought to do that before, hadn’t remembered, actually, that she was allowed to touch him in this way.

And the Amys just stood there and watched.  A trio adorable sentries dressed in white lace, wearing identical smiles that we're getting creepier by the second.

Oliver placed a corn muffin smothered with butter and blackberry jam in front of Felicity and refilled her juice before sitting next to her and taking a bite of bread stacked with cheese.  She took another sip of the juice but couldn’t find it in her to even lift the muffin to her mouth.  Could she just be hallucinating?  Seeing double…triple...was that a thing?   Seeing triple?

Placing a hand on her knee, Oliver turned back to the little girls.  “Um, Amy… _s_ , could you possibly give me and Felicity a moment alone?”

“Oh!” Amy’s eyes widened and she exchanged looks with her twin…triplets?  “Of course.  Dr.  Ann will be here soon.  Please, try to eat and relax.  All will be well.”

Oh.  Okay then.  She’d do that.  Color Felicity reassured.

The girls bustled from the room and Felicity tried to concentrate on her food, to actually bring the muffin to her mouth and chew.  Thankfully, Oliver pulled his chair closer to hers and leaned into her, resting their foreheads together.  The touch immediately started to drain away the panic.  _Thank God._

Licking the jelly off her lips, Felicity drooped the rest of the muffin from her shaky fingertips and took in a deep breath, inhaling Oliver’s scent.  She could feel her chest loosen.  She could breathe again.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” Oliver whispered and for some reason the quiet appeal pulled tears to her eyes.

And even with his hands on her knees and the juice making its way through her veins, Felicity’s worries burst out in a whispered rush, “They’re clones, fracking clones and I saw Battlestar Galactica and the Clone Wars and well, anything Star Wars ever made and clones are just never quite _right_ , Oliver, and it’s not okay, and poor Amy was she hatched in a lab.  Did she ever have real parents or a childhood or an individuality?  And what if we’re just the next phase, cause _clearly_ this is in phases, did you see how there are phases?  Like every five years, maybe?  I mean, I’m not sure it’s _exactly_ five years but crazy science types like to do things with a symmetry like that and they look like they’re five years apart and, oh God, what if there are little children or babies, Oliver…there could be _babies_ here, or even worse they could want our baby to—”

“Shhh Shhhh.  Breathe,” Oliver hummed, his hands stroking her face and his knees pressing against her thighs until Felicity was able to take a breath and look at him without sobbing.  “We don’t have a child for them to steal,” he reminded her.  “And we aren’t going to have one.  Not here.”

“Yes, but…”

But Felicity was starting to worry that whatever they had done to them, to make them perfect, may have messed with her birth control.  What then?  She couldn’t bring herself to say that out loud, though.  If she did, it would probably trigger another panic attack, one that Oliver couldn’t talk her out of. 

And Oliver…Felicity didn’t think he would be able to stay quite so calm and collected if she mentioned that either.  And she really needed him to be her rock at the moment.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to Felicity’s worries, anyway.  “But that doesn’t mean they haven’t stolen our genetic material to—” 

Oliver pressed a quick kiss to her over active mouth.  “I don’t think that’s what’s going on.  The treatments and the Heat and…they went through too much trouble for it to be that simple.  If they wanted our ‘genetic material’ they could have just taken it.  There’s no reason to go through all this trouble.  They didn’t even need to kidnap us for that.”  Oliver shook his head, his eyes drifting away for a minute before hardening.  “No, I think these… _clones_ , they are just workers, drones, or whatever.  I think we’re here for something else altogether.  Something different.”

Blessed air filled Felicity’s lungs and she nodded.  Okay.  That made sense.   Thank God one of them was rational.  “Like another phase, different?”

Oliver shrugged, reaching down to squeeze her hands.  “Maybe.  Or maybe there are two concurrent projects.  I don’t know.  You’re the genius, not me.”

Felicity had to laugh at that.  “At the moment, you seem to be thinking a whole lot more clearly.”  Then her eyes skittered away from his, embarrassed at how easily she had fallen apart.  If they were going to get out of here, she was going to have to do so much better than this.  So much for staying strong and burning the bastards to the ground.  She picked at her muffin.

“Hey,” Oliver murmured, tapping her forehead and giving her a half-smile.  “That’s because genius thoughts are faster and get tangled more easily.  There’s so many more of them.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that.  She was really so lucky to have Oliver as a Soulmate.  He was the most _wonderful_ man…and, uh oh, she had forgotten to tell him about that.  She really shouldn’t have put it off for so long.  This wasn’t the time, though.  Dr. Ann was going to be here any second and they had hardly recovered from the clone bombshell.

Tonight.  As soon as they had some time alone.  After they’d made love and calmed down.  Then Felicity would tell Oliver everything.  She promised herself.  Tonight.

Pressing a kiss to his lips, Felicity told him, “You don’t give yourself enough credit.  You’re brilliant in your own way.”

Oliver rolled his eyes, looking away and showing her he didn’t buy a word of it.  Then it was Felicity’s turn to gently turn his face back to hers.  “I’m serious.  You have a more practical intelligence, more linear.  Thank _God_.  If we both had scruffy minds like mine, we’d run ourselves in circles.”

Tipping his head, Oliver gave her a confused, but fond, smile.  “Scruffy mind?”

Felicity sighed, shaking her head.  “I have so much TV to show you.”  Then she remembered that unless they figured out how to get off this island there would be no more TV for either of them and her smile faltered.

“Well, I love your scruffy mind.”  Oliver pressed a kiss to her forehead and shifted his seat again so he could throw his left arm around her shoulder and pick up a cheese sandwich with the right.  At least, they weren’t going to have the ‘you have to eat’ fight.   Though, clearly the Happy Juice wasn’t nearly as much of a problem as it used to be.   Not only did it not make her foggy anymore, it only took the _edge_ off the anxiety.

Felicity had barely finished her muffin before her brain took off again.  “Do you think it’s strange that there are no in-between ages?” she whispered between nibbles.

Oliver shot her a look from the corner of his eye, whispering back, “Like they were hatched in batches?” 

The word ‘hatched’ triggered images of a room full of alien looking eggs and made Felicity shiver, even though she’d thought the same word herself.  Swallowing, she nodded.

“Well, if they were, and the first batch was Tweddle Dumb, then it was clearly defective,” Oliver drawled, taking a rather violent bite of a peach.  He absolutely despised Brian.  Or…the _Brians_.  So many more to hate now.

“That thought _had_ crossed my mind,” Felicity whispered back in all seriousness.  “It also…”  She blew out a breath and looked away. “It has also crossed my mind that they could have younger children here somewhere.  Babies even.”

Her voice broke and she wasn’t sure why she was getting so choked up at the idea, but the next thing she knew, Oliver’s entire face had hardened and he pulled her back around to face him.  He leaned in close again and whispered fiercely, “Felicity, I _promise_ you.  We won’t just get _us_ off this island, but every single child.  I swear that to you.”

Felicity couldn’t help but smile at his determination.  It was so hard to doubt him when he was like this.  Oliver… _her_ Oliver, he always found a way.  He was a hero.  They could do this.  And maybe there was a greater purpose to them being here.  If they could save even _one_ child…wouldn’t that make this whole abduction worth it?

“Good morning!”

Felicity jerked away from Oliver and looked up as the doctor…if she really _was_ a doctor, somehow, Felicity didn’t think that they let clones into Medical School…walked into the room. 

Blinking up at the woman, Felicity tried to get her bearings.  It was strange to hear another voice after all this time of hearing only Oliver and Amy and she had only met Ann briefly before they had been abducted.

But Dr. Ann smiled at them as if there was nothing unusual about any of this, like they were old friends, as she sat in a chair across the table from them.  “I trust everyone is feeling chipper and energetic this morning?”

Felicity swallowed a hysterical laugh.  Chipper and energetic?  Was that code for freaked out and completely flipping baffled by everything going on around them?

“That’s one way to put it,” Oliver muttered under his breath as he shifted back to his position beside Felicity, his arm, once again, falling around her shoulders.  “We’re feeling quite healthy, thank you, Dr. Ann.  So, which Dr. Ann are you exactly?  Have we met before?”

Felicity’s eyes flew to Oliver.  He was wearing his damn Ollie smirk, his eyes firmly fixed of the clone.  Felicity may live to regret even suggesting he play that part.  Pinching his thigh in warning, she willed him to tone it down.  But the stupid man didn’t even react.  He just kept on smirking.

Dr. Ann waved a dismissive hand at them from across the table.  Luckily, she didn’t look insulted or irritated by Oliver’s comment.  Felicity wondered if she were capable of such ‘primitive’ emotions. 

Ann merely looked at her tablet and told them breezily, “Oh, it doesn’t matter.  We all work as one here.” 

Then she looked up and fixed Oliver and Felicity with a bright smile.  A smile that Felicity had learned well.  God, maybe she _was_ Amy ten years older.  Perhaps an earlier version?  Was Amy Ann 2.0?  If so, what kind of improvements had they made?

And what did she _mean_ , they worked as _one_?  Was there a fraken Hive mind? Now, _that_ was a terrifying thought.

“Let’s see here…” Dr. Ann murmured, almost to herself, as she scrolled through her tablet.  Felicity was very careful to keep eating and grateful that Oliver did the same.  She wrapped her bare ankle tightly around his, needing the comfort of the firm touch under the table.

Then Ann placed the tablet down and folded her hands, making eye contact with first Felicity then Oliver.  “Are we ready for Phase Two?”  As if she were the family doctor that they had known all their lives.  As if she were asking them if they were ready to start a new vitamin protocol.

“Absolutely,” Felicity pipped up before Oliver’s temper got the better of him and he could say something biting. 

She could feel his anger simmering now that she was calmer.  His bicep was like a rock behind her head.  They seemed to be taking turns being the one to lose it.  Of course, Felicity had had a glass of juice and Oliver had barely sipped his.  So, perhaps it was still doing _something_.

“What _is_ Phase Two exactly?” Felicity asked as sweetly as she could manage.

Turning her dark, intelligent eyes to Felicity, Dr. Ann answered, “It’s the discovery and refinement of your newly unlocked talents, of course.”  As if it were obvious.  As if it were _sane_.

 _Of course._   Lovely.  Also, beautifully vague.

“Superpowers, you mean?” Oliver clarified and Felicity’s eyes flicked over to him.  His tone was conversational and smooth, but his jaw was ticking.

“We prefer the term _talents_.” Dr. Ann shrugged.  “’Super’ implies that you are something _more_ than human and we’re just… _honing_ those that God gave you.”

Dr. Ann’s use of the word ‘God’ threw Felicity.  Because it didn’t sound like a casual use of the word.  Was this… _clone_ …religious?  It seemed like an odd juxtaposition.  A believer in a higher power, who, at the same time, took it upon themselves to play God in the laboratory. 

Felicity exchanged a quick glance with Oliver, but before they could form follow up questions, Ann started talking again.  “So how about we start with some simple questions, just to make sure your Heat and the aftermath of your treatments is going well?”  It was clearly a rhetorical question because Ann didn’t give them time to respond.  “Good then.  Just relax and answer the best you can.”

The… _interview_ began like any other doctor’s visit with simple questions about their health and wellbeing.  Then they got progressively more invasive and specific.  Felicity could feel Oliver getting more and more irritated beside her, the tension coming off of him in waves despite his relaxed pose.

“Did you experience anything uncomfortable during your mating?” Dr. Ann asked blandly, in the same tone she had used when asking if they had experienced any stomach upset.

The arm muscles against Felicity’s back jumped as Oliver drawled, “You mean _besides_ my penis swelling up to the size of a watermelon?”

Felicity suppressed a groan and kicked Oliver beneath the table, which wasn’t easy with her ankle tangled with his, but he got the point.  She hoped.  Though, maybe not, since his response was to roll his head toward her and give her that damn _Ollie_ smile.  Maybe she should kick him again.

Dr. Ann looked up with her eyebrows raised.  “Did it cause you pain?”

“No—”

“Good.”

And that was that.  Oliver’s comment was dismissed, his sarcasm either ignored or having gone completely over Ann’s perfectly quaffed head.  Maybe the clones all had Asperger’s Disorder.  That would make a crazy kinda sense.  Their social cues _sucked_.

Oliver, on the other hand, picked up on Dr. Ann’s dismissal perfectly and it just made him more irritable.  “It’s a _good thing_ that my penis has started to believe it belongs to a dog?”

Aw _crap_.  Felicity kicked Oliver harder, resisting the urge to do a face palm as well.  What was he trying to accomplish?

This time, Ann _did_ pick up on Oliver’s tone.  It was pretty impossible not to.  She put down her tablet and looked pointedly at the juice Oliver _wasn’t_ drinking.

And then it was Felicity’s turn to tense up.  Oliver was the most stubborn man she had ever met.  If he decided to fight Ann now…it could be the end for their plan.  She turned to him and tried to plead with her eyes, but Oliver never took his eyes from the doctor.  He just gave Ann an extremely disingenuous half-smile and saluted her with his glass before raising it to his lips and drinking.  Though not much, Felicity noticed.

Ann seemed pleased, though, and Felicity was able to take a mental sigh of relief.  An outward one was too risky at this point. 

Dr. Ann nodded her approval and refolded her hands on the table, focusing on Oliver. “Mr. Queen, I understand that this can all be quite disconcerting.” Oliver made a soft choking noise as she said this.  “But Heat and knotting is not as primitive as you might believe.  It is all part of the Grand Design, the most evolved of mammals, including, now, _you_ , experience it.  It is what God intended for his people.”

Oliver just stared at the ‘doctor’ with disbelief.  Unable…or unwilling to hide that particular emotion.

“Do you experience it?” Felicity asked, impulsively, acting purely on curiosity and, well, the desperate need to pull the doctor’s attention from Oliver.  “Heat, I mean?”  Not the knotting, since, duh, female, missing the appropriate equipment. 

And… _crap,_ that was a really weird question to ask your doctor, wasn’t it?  _Way_ too personal.  Not that she was _their_ doctor, or even an _actual_ doctor, probably, but Ann seemed to think she was and they needed to stay on her good side.  But, then again, this was _all_ weird and none of the clones seemed to have one clue as to what modesty was and…

“Oh, no,” Ann smiled, a weird almost dreamy smile.  Which was maybe the oddest reaction Felicity could imagine.  “We are just God’s soldiers.  We merely help carry out his plans, we do not fulfill them.”

Ooookay…and what the frickidy frack did _that_ mean?  Were they all sterilized?  How horrible.  Poor Amy!  Though, maybe being a clone made it impossible to procreate.  Then again, who would Ann have sex with?  Brian?  Arg ughhh.  Yuck!  Anyone having sex with that lumbering beast was pretty horrifying.  Better to be sterilized.

Dear God, this was so freaky.  And what was with them all starting every other sentence with the word ‘Oh.’  Amy did that too.  That was weird too, right?

Clearing her throat, Felicity forced herself to stay on task, to not spiral like before.  “Dr. Ann, I…” She reached over for Oliver’s knee and found fabric.  She almost panicked until she was able to reach over and lay her hand on his bare back.  “I… _we_ didn’t realize that you were all…” Both megalomaniac scientists _and_ a cult. “…doing this in the name of God.”

Which God?  Felicity wondered.  Certainly not _her_ God. 

“Well, of course,” Dr. Ann responded, looking genuinely surprised.  Because, of _course_ , who else would alter genetics o _ther than_ crazy religious fanatics?  “Humankind has become lost over the centuries.  Morally.  Intellectually.  Biologically.  We, here at Nirvana, are correcting those mistakes.  Fixing humankind, if you will, so that they can once again be in His image.  What He _truly_ intended.  And to do His good works.”

“How do you know what God originally intended?”  And while Oliver asked this calmly and politely, Felicity still kicked him.  “I mean—” 

“What he means,” Felicity interrupted before Oliver could dig them in any deeper, “is that genes are so complex, shaped by centuries of evolution and random mutation and selection…” And Dr. Ann was _so_ not buying this.  Maybe Felicity should have let Oliver handle it after all.

“Felicity, my dear,” Dr. Ann began and, maybe, Felicity’s skin crawled just a little bit at the way she said her name.  And why was _she_ ‘Felicity’ and Oliver ‘Mr. Queen’?  That was awfully misogynistic?   “There is nothing _random_ about any of this.  It is far too intricate and too elegantly coded to be anything but _by_ _Design_.”

Felicity knew that one couldn’t argue with such deep set religious beliefs, so she really didn’t know why she said, “But—” 

“Take the two of you for example.  The match in your DNA is so specific, so perfect, it couldn’t possibly be anything but intentional.”

Ohhhh…. _fuuuck_.

“In all the world, you both have only _one_ match.  It is what drew you two together in the first place.  Ms. Smoak…” Oh, _now_ she was Ms. Smoak.  When they decided to _really_ frack up her life _then_ she was Ms. Smoak.  “It is what brought you to Starling City.  How can you argue that that is random?”

And, well, maybe Felicity _could_ argue if she weren’t really _really_ trying not to freak out right now.  Why couldn’t these wakados have waited until _tomorrow_ to bring up the Soulmate thing? 

But, really, wasn’t it Felicity’s fault for not having brought it up before now? Yesterday, this morning, _anytime at all_.  God, Oliver really should be hearing this from her.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Oliver murmured and he really didn’t seem to.  He hadn’t fully caught on yet.   Maybe Felicity should act dumb, act like this was the first time she was hearing it too...which was horribly dishonest and she internally recoiled at the idea, but wouldn’t it be worse if he thought… _realized_ she had been hiding it from him.

Dr. Ann turned her eyes to Oliver.  “It’s as Amy explained at the beginning of your Heat.”

Well, frackidy frack frack _frack_.  There went _that_ plan.  At least, Felicity didn’t have to contemplate lying any more.  Clearly, it wasn’t an option.  Oh why, oh _why_ hadn’t she told him!

Felicity could literally _feel_ Oliver’s eyes fall on her, but for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to make herself meet them.  What was she going to _do_?

And Dr. Ann…Dr. Ann just kept right on talking…digging Felicity’s grave.  Nope, clearly not picking up the social ques on _this_ one.

“Not only are you as a couple perfect for our Project, the genetically match—” 

“Wait,” Oliver interrupted, finally catching up…unfortunately.  “Are you saying… _actually_ saying…that Felicity and I are a _unique_ match?  That we couldn’t…” He waved his hand between them.  “…do _this_ with anyone else?”

“Didn’t Amy explain?”

And here it came…the final nail in Felicity’s coffin.

Oliver’s fingers curled, digging into the flesh of her shoulder.  He got it now.  Oh yes, he got it.  And Felicity had no idea how she was going to talk herself back out of it. 

“It’s just that I’m not as smart as my mate here,” Oliver replied blandly, focused, at least outwardly, on Dr. Ann.  “Could you possibly explain it again?  We were…so _distracted_ the first time.”  He smiled.  And there wasn’t a _thing_ sincere about it.

Dr. Ann’s smile, on the other hand, seemed both real and indulgent.  “Mr. Queen… _Oliver_ , we here at Nirvana are fully confident in your intelligence, but I can also understand that you had a lot on your mind at the time.  That’s always the problem with explaining things at the beginning of Heat.”

If only Oliver were as easy to convince as these clones.  Clearly, his intellect exceeded theirs. 

“Your connection,” Ann continued, damn her, “is engraved on your DNA, on your Souls.  The science and the spirituality cannot be separated.  You are Soulmates.  We could see it quite clearly in your DNA.  In every test we preformed really.”

Oliver’s breath hissed and Felicity wondered just what he was freaking out about most.  The fact that he had just been cornered into a lifelong…no _forever_ long commitment?  The fact that all _choice_ in his future had been wiped away?  Or that Felicity had kept all of that from him?  She had started their journey as Soulmates with…not a lie, but a _secret_ …a huge, enormous, _ridiculous_ secret.

“Even if we had done nothing…” Dr. Ann kept talking, because, apparently, she had decided it was an excellent time to make a speech, having no idea that a relationship was unraveling before her eyes.  “If you hadn’t been Chosen, that would still have been your fundamental Truth.  It drew the two of you together long before we found you.  You would have always felt the effects of it.”

There was silence after that.  Felicity tried desperately to remember why she hadn’t told Oliver right away.  Something about not overwhelming him, about waiting for the right time…Felicity almost laughed.  Right time, huh?  Hadn’t _that_ all been shot straight to hell?

“Well,” Dr. Ann picked back up her tablet, completely oblivious to the distress she had caused, “I think I have all I need.  Now, we’ll just get a few basic medical tests done, to make sure all is how it should be, and then we can start assessing your talents.”  The look she gave them made it seem like she was expecting them to be incredibly excited at the prospect.

Neither of them had one ounce of energy left to pretend that was so.

Oliver did, however, clear his throat and put on his placid CEO smile, asking, “What kind of medical tests are we talking about?”

He may have seemed calm, but Felicity could feel the emotions rolling off of him.  None of them were good.  Confusion.  Betrayal.  Oliver was _not_ happy with her and it made Felicity feel physically ill.

“…body scan, very simple, completely noninvasive,” Dr. Ann was saying when Felicity was finally able to focus on her words.  “And, of course, a few very simple blood tests.”

Felicity’s chest tightened in a completely different way and, even though he was clearly upset with her, Oliver reached out and took her hand, telling the doctor firmly, “Felicity doesn’t like needles.”  It bordered on threatening.  It was a good thing they could blame it on the Alpha thing, because this wasn’t the cooperative persona they had been going for.

But Dr. Ann didn’t seem the least bit phased by Oliver’s tone, or his threat.  Who knew, maybe she was as strong as the Brians.  Wouldn’t that be terrifying?  Ann smiled reassuringly, which wasn’t reassuring at all.  Meanwhile, Felicity imagined her picking up the conference table and hurling it across the room.  

“It’s really just one simple prick, between our supplements and your mate’s touch, I’m sure Felicity will do just fine.”

After everything, a blood draw was really the least of her worries.  Or should be, anyway, so Felicity concentrated on how surprising it was that Dr. Ann had just admitted to drugging them _and_ confirmed what Felicity had thought was happening with the touch thing. 

The ‘doctor’ stood, gesturing for them to follow.  Oliver was right behind her, Felicity’s hand still in his.

But Felicity tugged Oliver back, whispering, “We need to talk.”  Dear God, did they need to _talk_.  What Felicity wouldn’t do for the safe solitude of their White Room right now.

"Yes, we do.” Oliver didn’t look at her, wouldn’t.  He didn’t stop walking either.  His hand clenched around hers and his jaw spasmed, but his eyes remained on Dr. Ann’s back as he continued pulling Felicity through the door connecting the conference room with what looked like a medical facility.

Felicity swallowed.  “I can explain.”  Though, she hadn’t quite figured out how yet. 

“Not now,” Oliver hissed.  “When we’re alone.”

When they were alone.  Of course.  Good call.  Felicity couldn’t exactly explain in a couple whispered words why she had done what she had done.  Especially, when she was having trouble remembering why she had done what she’d done in the first place.  Actually, no matter what, this was a long, complicated, _personal_ conversation.  Not one she wanted to have in front of their jailers.  Or anyone really.

But, couldn’t they maybe ask for some time alone?  Like they had done earlier?  Because Felicity didn’t really know how much longer she could handle this _weight_ between her and Oliver.  It felt like it was suffocating her.

But then, there wasn’t time to even _bring up_ the possibility of time alone.  They were led over the scanner thing…y.  And, of course, Oliver insisted that he go first.  Just announcing it before Felicity had a chance to process the situation.

There was no point even trying to argue with him.  Or time.  Oliver was in the machine before Felicity could get a word out.  But the machine turned out to be completely benign.   Oliver just stood in the center of a circle, in the open air, as the scanners and lights flashed and whipped around him.

A Bobby ran the machine.  That was the fourth face… _Bobby_.  Tall, skinny, smiling, one of many, Bobby. 

He declared Oliver healthy…or acceptable…or maybe he had said, “Perfect.”  Yes, Felicity thought it was “ _Perfect_ ” that Bobby said, but her thoughts were flying in all those different directions that Oliver had remarked upon earlier, tangling themselves into a nice complicated little web, making it hard for her to be sure of that…or _anything_.

Oliver actually nodded his assent when it was Felicity’s turn to go into the scanner and, maybe if she hadn’t been so far in the dog house, she would have protested the caveman like behavior, but the last thing she was going to do was start a fight with Oliver right now.  She was far too busy feeling guilty to feel annoyed.

But Felicity assumed that the fact that Oliver was readily allowing her in the machine meant it wouldn’t hurt.  She was right.  It didn’t.  It didn’t last long either.  Though, it felt like forever that she wasn’t touching Oliver.  That his accusing eyes drilled into her as he stood there, his arms crossed, his stance almost militaristic.

But when it was Felicity’s turn to get her blood drawn, Oliver held her hand and stroked her cheek and she barely felt the needle.  But the hurt in his eyes felt like a knife.

After, Bobby led them down the long hallway to their next destination and, unlike his older counterpart, he was positively chatty.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” he gushed.  “Amy has gone on and on.  She is positively ecstatic.  Loves working with you.  It really is the best assignment.”  Bobby babbled so much, Felicity wondered if they hadn’t already stolen her genetic material.  “But I told her that I would get my turn to work with you…”

Neither Oliver nor Felicity could get a word in edgewise, never mind ask for the two of them to have a minute alone together.  And, honestly, Felicity worried that the boy would burst out in tears if they asked.  He sounded just _that_ happy to be in their presence. 

Bobby prattled, or more accurately, fawned, all the way to what turned out to be an enormous, high-tech gymnasium.

“…the Ann and Bobby who found you two are _famous_.  It was obvious you would be Chosen as soon as it was clear the genetics matched and—” 

“And how _were_ we Chosen?” Oliver asked, interrupting for the first time.  With the worst, most awful, _horrific_ question he could possibly ask.  Felicity’s hand spasmed in his.  If she thought that he was upset about the Soulmate thing, then this was going to be epically bad.  “It wasn’t all genetic?”

Oh Oliver.  Sometimes, Felicity wished he were a little _less_ quick on the uptake.

“Well, mate compatibility and program suitability is confirmed with genetics.”  Bobby turned his own huge smile on Oliver. “But you were Chosen because of who you _are_.”  And little did the boy know that was _not_ something Oliver wanted to hear.

Oliver stiffened, asking, “CEO of Queen Consolidated?” But Felicity knew that was just a shot in the dark, a last hopeful gambit, because he what already figured this out.  He _knew_.

Bobby laughed, almost to say ‘as if,’ but he wasn’t a normal teenager so, instead, he said, “Of course not.  Because of your work as the Arrow.”

And if Felicity thought Oliver was tense before, he was a walking brick wall now.  The hand she held gripped hers almost painfully.  She didn’t even want to begin to contemplate what was running through his head.   Something that had to do with this all being his fault, no doubt.  About how he wasn’t worthy to be her Soulmate and so on and so forth. 

God, Felicity wanted to scream.

But, instead, fortunately or unfortunately, who knew which, it was time to test their new physical prowess.  Something Oliver was only too eager to do at the moment.  Running.  Lifting.  Throwing.  _Hitting_.  He was more than eager to do any and all of it.

Felicity was well accustomed to Oliver blowing off steam with a workout and it was very clear that he had _a lot_ to blow off.  That had sure built fast, considering he had just spent the last five days having mind blowing sex.  God, she wished they were back there now, working this through in a completely different, _far_ more productive way.

It wasn’t easy for Oliver to build up a sweat, what with his enhanced abilities and all, but once he got into the groove…it was _scary_.  He was _so_ much faster…stronger…everything… _er_. 

Felicity wondered if he was holding back to keep their captors from getting a full sense of his abilities.  That was the kind of thing that Oliver would do.  But it was a little frightening to think _this_ was him holding back. 

Then again, he might be too angry to hold back anything.  The question was…who was he angriest at?  Felicity had a sinking feeling that it was her.

Felicity was allowed to just watch for a while, and under any other circumstances it would have been a joy, to watch all the incredible things Oliver’s beautiful body could do.  Instead, it was an exercise in torture as she imagined him hating her, hating himself, hating the idea of being Soulmates with _anyone_...

But, eventually, Bobby stopped excitedly recording things on his tablet and staring at Oliver in awe and turned to Felicity.  Apparently, it was her turn in the gym.  Which… _ugh_.

Staring at the treadmill that Oliver had just run on at a frightening speed, Felicity frowned.  Even if she didn’t hate working out… “I’m really not comfortable going on that without…” she swallowed, “underpants.”  And seriously, she was supposed to work out in just this dress?  No way. 

Oliver’s head whipped around at her words and he stared hard at Bobby, hissing, “Get her some underpants.” 

And given that the man had just thrown a hundred-pound ball across the room as if it were a common baseball it wasn’t surprising that Bobby just nodded frantically.  Felicity should have asked for a sports bra as well. 

A few minutes’ later, Amy appeared…or _an_ Amy appeared…with a pair of white lace panties that were hardly gym friendly.  And the fact that Oliver didn’t even react to the delicate little garment was _so_ not a good sign.  Felicity was too upset to argue that she needed more workout friendly attire and just did as she was told. 

Bobby didn’t make her do everything that Oliver had to do.  Thank God.  Felicity ran the treadmill, did a high tech obstacle course that tested her agility, climbed a damn rope…her high school PE nemesis…and while she did soooo much better than in high school (she was actually able to do it now), she was still nowhere near as good as Oliver _before_ Super-seruming.

Then Bobby announced that they were going to start testing their mental abilities with puzzles and games and while that was far more her speed…Felicity almost cried.  She couldn’t stand much more of this.  She just wanted to go back to the White Room with Oliver and talk…or fight…or _anything_.  Anything but _this_. 

“Unless you don’t feel up to it,” Bobby suggested.  “We can do this part tomorrow.”  He was definitely more perceptive than his older counterparts.

“ _Please_ ,” Felicity sighed, sounding desperate and not even caring.  “I don’t think I could do my best right now.”

Oliver nodded his tight jawed agreement and Bobby allowed it.  They were given a shower, separately unfortunately, and new, yet identical, clothing.  They _didn’t_ give Felicity another pair of panties so she was careful to keep the ones she had.  Panties were more valuable than gold in this place and she did not enjoy walking through these hallways without them. 

Amy led them back to their room.  At this point, Felicity couldn’t care less if it was _their_ Amy or not.

The walk seemed to take forever and, yet, it wasn’t nearly enough time to figure out the best way to explain the situation to Oliver.  Though, over the afternoon, Felicity had rehearsed at least a dozen scenarios in her head. 

Back in the White Room, Amy quickly left them alone and Felicity turned to see a very dejected Oliver sink onto his side of their bed.  Oh lord, this was worse than yelling.  Her heart just broke at the look on his face.

Oliver sighed, “Felicity…I…why didn’t you tell me?”

And Felicity’s very over active, and apparently genius mind…it chose that very moment to go blank.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start with thanking absolutely everyone who has commented on any of my stories in the last 10 days.  I’ve been outrageously behind in editing and until I catch up, I have to focus on that to keep these chapters coming the way I promised.  It doesn’t mean that your comments, ideas and thoughts don’t mean the world to me.
> 
> There will probably be some changes to the timeline/schedule I posted on Tumblr and I’ll post a new one Nov 1 (hopefully I‘ll have a better idea of where things are going to fall out by then).  I don’t think it will affect AKOI negatively, but there is a good chance that _To Sacrifice the Sun_ will not be out until January.  L  Sorry. 
> 
> Also, Season Five feels are merging with my _Of Inebriation and Redemption_ verse and I’m having very hyper plot bunnies telling me to write a series on season five moments, where Oliver and Felicity are very much together.  Wouldn’t the while season just be so much better if there was a 100lb Akita in the Bunker?
> 
> If it seems like I’m avoiding discussing this fic, I am…cause I’m so tempted to spoil things (the other reason I’m hesitant to go hog wild on responding to comments) But…the next chapter is called “Choice” and it’s… _intense_.  I find it very satisfying.  But it’s chapter 14 that I’m really excited about.  It’s my favorite of AKOI part 2 so far.
> 
> Since I had no Author’s Note in the last chapter, double, triple, quadrupole Thanks to my wonderful team of **Ireland1733 and** **Fairytalehearts!** I couldn’t do it without you!
> 
> If you like this story, please don’t forget to comment and/or kudos (I’m getting close to 1000 kudos and it would make me sooooooo ecstatically happy to have a 1000 kudos story up on AO3).
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  


	13. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Just a very quick reminder that this story takes place after the season 2 Arrow finale and nothing in seasons 3-5 happened.

“Take the two of you for example.  The match in your DNA is so specific, so perfect, it couldn’t possibly be anything but intentional.  In all the world, you both have only _one_ match.  It is what drew you two together in the first place.  Ms. Smoak, it is what brought you to Starling City.  How can you argue that is random?”

At first, Oliver had trouble wrapping his head around what the good ‘doctor’ was saying.  It just didn’t make sense.  But, maybe, he was just afraid to believe it.  It was so…much.  And, as he said, he wasn’t a genius like Felicity.

But as it started to sink in, Oliver felt…he felt…

An _elation_ like nothing he had ever felt before.  Felicity was _his_.  It was written in their genes, etched into their souls.  It was something Oliver had felt, but this was confirmation.  There was scientific _proof_.  And it felt incredible.

But the best part…they had no choice.  They had _no choice_.

Oliver wasn’t being selfish by trying to make this work with Felicity.  He wasn’t ruining her life.  Because someone, or something, whether it be God or Fate or _whatever_ chose him for her and her for him.  He had never had such an urge to go to church and thank whatever Higher Spirit was watching down on him. 

Because for the first time, Oliver felt like someone _was_ watching over him… _them_.  Maybe he had felt forgotten and overlooked before.  But not anymore.  Never again. 

There was literally no one in the world, in _creation_ , capable of making Felicity as happy and complete as he could.  It filled Oliver with pride.  With relief.

Then…

Then Oliver realized that Felicity didn’t look nearly as happy and relieved as he did.  In fact, she looked panic stricken.

 _Then_ he realized that what she really looked was guilty.  Guilty because this wasn’t news she was hearing for the first time.  Not by a long shot.  Felicity had known for _days_.  Since before Oliver had returned from that last treatment…that had to be when Amy had explained the whole thing to her, the same time she explained the genetic Super Power…thing.

When Felicity had told him about the eugenics, Oliver had sensed she was holding something back, but he gotten distracted by his Goddamn cock…no, _she_ had _purposely_ distracted him with his Goddamn cock.  Used his stupid fucking obsession with it to her advantage and changed the subject.  It was the oldest trick in the book and not something he would have ever imagined her doing. 

Then Felicity had preceded, for the next _six days_ , as they had grown as close as two people could possibly be, to keep this from him.  To keep something this incredibly _immense_ and life changing…to herself.

And Felicity couldn’t claim to be in a Heat fog the entire time.  They had had conversations.  Long, _intelligent_ conversations.  They had talked in depth about everything _else_ that was happening on this island.  Everything they knew about anyway.  There was quite a bit of speculation.  Yet, she kept one thing she knew _for certain_ from him. 

At least, Oliver assumed that it was one thing.  Who knew what else Felicity was keeping secret?

God fucking _damn it_!  And Felicity had the _nerve_ to complain that he kept secrets from _her_.  When did she ever talk about _her_ past?  Hell, she had met his entire family and Oliver didn’t even know her mother’s name, never mind the mysterious deadbeat dad.  What else was she keeping from him?

Oliver sat through the rest of their conversation with Dr. Ann in a fog, his gaze continuously drawn to his girlfriend, trying to discern… _anything_.

Then there were the tests.  Oliver tried to stick with the plan, to lull their captors into complacency with his cooperation, but he was on autopilot.  Distracted.

And when he held Felicity’s hand as they took her blood and he looked into her eyes, Oliver felt such love, such a connection…did she feel _one tenth_ of what he felt for her?

Because the thing Oliver couldn’t help obsessing over was _why_.

 _Why_ wouldn’t Felicity tell him?  Clearly, this was important.  Didn’t she want Oliver as a Soulmate? 

Soulmate.  What an odd and bizarre phrase.  Something akin to unicorns.  A thing of adolescent girls’ fantasies.

Except that it certainly didn’t seem to have been part of Felicity’s fantasies.  Though, maybe it was just Oliver.  Because, even though she seemed to want him, apparently, _forever_ was something else altogether.

Felicity had agreed to a committed relationship.  Yet, to be fair, that had been under duress.  But they really hadn’t defined what that meant.  Now that Oliver thought about it, they hadn’t discussed what their lives together would be like once they got off this island.

Clearly, this was all too much for Felicity.  The idea of being stuck with a damaged, college dropout, ex-playboy was fun for a while, all bad boys were, but forever?  That obviously gave her pause.  Why else would she have kept this information to herself? 

Then the kid…the clone that was undoubtedly an attempt to fix the Brian debacle and had resulted in skinny kid that couldn’t shut up…he let it slip that they had picked Oliver because he was the Arrow.  And it all started to make a hell of a lot more sense.

Because if they took Oliver because of the Arrow and they took Felicity because of her genetic connection to him, then clearly, it was his fault that they were in this mess to begin with.  It was all _his_ fault.  His life choices had made them _both_ targets.

It was just one small demonstration of what life as Oliver’s Soulmate would be like.

No wonder Felicity wanted nothing to do with it.

Oliver had never been so grateful to see a gym.  He hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed it, but pushing himself to the limits of physical exertion was _exactly_ what he needed in that moment and these maniacs had some new and creative methods of doing just that.  It fit Oliver’s needs perfectly.

If he had been in his right mind, he probably would have held back.  Oliver didn’t really want their captors to know everything he could do, especially as he was starting to realize he could do _a lot_.  It just didn’t make good tactical sense to let them know his full abilities.  As soon as he realized this, he tried.  He really did.  But then he looked over at Felicity, standing there looking all sweet and innocent in her white confection of a dress and…

And all Oliver wanted to do was fall to the ground and beg, ask her _why_ , plead with her to tell him how he could make himself worthy…

 _Or_ punch a fucking hole in the concrete wall with his bare hand.  Until he bled.

The one saving grace…they were actually letting him punch things.  Some of them, while not exactly concrete, were very hard.  It was pretty damn difficult to make himself bleed, but Oliver endeavored to make it happen anyway.  

There was also kicking and jumping and throwing.  It was all very cathartic.

But there were still times when he had to stop and watch Felicity.  Protect Felicity.  Which Oliver did without question.  He would never complain about that.  But he hated having to be still.  As soon as his body stopped moving, his thoughts started speeding, chasing each other around and around, attempting to drive him insane.  He almost wondered if that was all part of these Lunatics’ plan in the first place.

They made them eat, but the food didn’t even take even the edge off his rampaging emotions.  He even drank the damn Happy Juice.  No effect.

And _then_ the kid said they wanted then to do puzzles.  Goddamn fucking _puzzles_ and Oliver almost lost his shit.  He sure as hell couldn’t sit down and do _puzzles_.

But Felicity saved them both from that fate.  Just as she always did. 

The clones had them shower.  And Oliver was thankful and disappointed that it was separate from Felicity. Then they were escorted back to their room, a place Oliver was both craved and dreading seeing.  He needed to know what she was thinking, but the longer the day went on, the more convinced he was that there was no answer she could give that he would like.

Once they were alone in the White Room…the place where he had been the happiest he had ever been and wasn’t _that_ fucking pathetic…Oliver was almost afraid that he was going to yell at her, something he never wanted to do.  But, by then, he was so full of rage.

Somehow, he didn’t.  When Oliver spoke, it came out as a pitiful, sad little whimper, “Felicity…I…why didn’t you _tell_ me?”  Maybe, he should be glad he was able to speak at all.  

Oliver was expecting Felicity to babble.  He expected her to argue.  To explain.  To reason.  He expected a sea of words for him to try and wade through.  He expected her to say _something_. 

But Felicity…is chatty, talkative Felicity, just stood there with her mouth open, staring at him like a deer in the headlights.  And the longer she stood there, the more Oliver felt the need to crawl out of his own skin.

He needed to move, to _do_ something, his muscles coiled with tension.  Oliver wanted to _pound_ something.  Break something.  He wondered what would happen if he punched the window with his new found strength.  Would it crack?  Could he climb down this cliff without seriously harming himself?  Did he care?

But just as he started to push himself to his feet, to find something, _anything_ to pummel, Felicity jerked toward him, her hands up in surrender.  What was she surrendering to, he wondered?

“Wait!  It’s not what you think!” Felicity burst out.

And what did she know of his thoughts!  She had lost the right to assume to know him that well! 

“And what do I _think_ , Felicity?” Oliver snapped, hard and biting, because any control he’d had over his emotions had crumbled during her long moments of silence.

Felicity reeled back as if struck, clearly shocked by the vehemence of his reaction.  He tried hard never to direct this side of himself at her, tried to shield her from it…and Oliver immediately felt guilty for doing it now…horrifically guilty, but he didn’t know how to stop.  Didn’t know if he could.

“I don’t know,” Felicity stammered, blinking.  One would have almost thought she was scared of him, but Oliver knew better.  “I…”

And, still, brilliant eloquent Felicity couldn’t find _one thing_ to say to justify her actions.  Hurt washed over Oliver. Stabbing, burning hurt.  

Guilt was replaced by rage and Oliver barked out, “Because I’m thinking that I just spent the last six days with the woman I love, being what I _thought_ was as close as two people could be, but clearly I have no understanding of what that means.” 

And why would he?  Since when did he have the first clue when it came to relationships.  Every time Oliver thought he might getting something right he was proven wrong.

Felicity flinched at his words and this time Oliver felt satisfaction instead of guilt.  He wanted her to feel one _tiny bit_ of the pain he felt. 

“And all along she was keeping something from me.  Some pretty fucking important shit,” Oliver continued and a part of him was shocked and ashamed at the language he was using, at the way he was talking to _Felicity_ , but he couldn’t seem to stop.  “Shit that not only could affect us getting out of here, but could affect the _rest of our lives_.”

A tear escaped Felicity’s eye, trailing down her cheek and it was maybe the only thing that could make Oliver stop his tirade.  He still couldn’t bring himself to take any of it back, though.  To comfort her.

“I was going to tell you,” Felicity whispered.

And for some reason that only enraged Oliver more.  “Really?  When?”

“Soon.” It came out as a whimper. 

All Oliver could do was clench his jaw and stare, afraid of the next thing that was going to come out of his mouth.

“I _was_ ,” Felicity swore, her blue eyes entreating.  And it was so tempting to believe her.  “Tonight.”

Oliver scoffed and turned his head away.  Tonight.  Convenient.  “And why not last night?  Or the night before?”

“I just…I got distracted, okay?  It wasn’t a conscious decision to wait so long.”

Was that the best Felicity could do?  “You weren’t _distracted_ enough to tell me the rest,” Oliver bit out. Then he fixed her with another hard took.  “Unless, there’s more—”

“No!”  Felicity shook her head.  “ _Nooo_.”

“So, why didn’t you tell me when you told me the rest of the fucking genetic stuff?  I’m assuming that Amy lumped it all together, why didn’t you?” and this time Oliver’s voice was definitely raised.  He was losing it. 

Oliver was almost as angry at himself for getting distracted in that the first place.  He had _known_ there was more and stupid masculine vanity had kept him from pursuing it.

“Because…” Felicity’s jaw clenched and she drew herself up.  He could see the exact moment when she decided to fight back and there was a part of Oliver that relished it, who _craved_ a good fight.   “I needed a moment to process, okay!  It was a lot!  _All_ of this is a lot!”

“I’ll bet.”  Oliver pulled in a shaky breath and clenched his fists, his eyes finding the window.  He just couldn’t look at her.  “Being stuck with me is a _lot_.”  Pain pierced though him again.  He missed that clear calm that came with the simple rage.

“Don’t put words in my mouth!”  Felicity screamed back, in a voice louder than his.  “This is genetic coding and… _souls_ , Oliver.  That means _forever_!”

As if he didn’t understand that.  “I got all the implications, Felicity.  I’m not a moron.”

“I didn’t say—”

“You didn’t have to,” Oliver snapped.  Stalking over to the window, he crossed his arms and clenched them tightly as he tried to control himself, to _not_ start throwing punches.  His voice was quieter when he finally said, “It’s not hard to figure out that the idea of spending your life with someone so _clearly_ your intellectual inferior was something you needed to _process_.”

Felicity gasped at his words, but Oliver still couldn’t look at her.  Besides, the words were meant to sting.  The truth wasn’t pretty, but it was something they both needed to face.  Maybe this was one of the reasons he had never pursued this thing between them in the first place.  How could they stand the test of time when she was so much… _more_ than him?

“After all,” Oliver kept going, his voice cold and even now, ugly, “spending a few months…or even a few years having hot sex with a good looking bad boy is fun and all.  But forever—”

He jerked as she landed a rather hard punch to his shoulder.    It _actually_ hurt, and when he turned, Oliver saw Felicity shaking her hand as if she had done a number on it, probably hurting herself more than she had hurt him.  But her face was red with rage and her eyes both hard and swollen.  Her face was a blotchy mess.  It was really unfair that she was still so beautiful.  How was he supposed to get through this?

But before Oliver could say anything, Felicity was screaming, “Shut the hell up! _Listen_ to me!  Stop putting words in my mouth!  Stupid, absurd, completely ridiculous words!  Are you even listening to yourself?!  And did it occur to you, for just _one_ second, that what I was afraid of was _your_ reaction?”

Oliver turned more fully toward her, shame over the things he’d accused her of starting to seep into his bones as he fought the need to tend to Felicity’s, obviously, aching hand.  Because, no, he hadn’t thought of that at all.  And that first bite of hope was igniting his guilt once again.

“I can see that you haven’t.” Felicity was panting.  Her chest was flushed, heaving.   She was enraged now as well.  “And, evidently, I was right to be worried about how you would take the news.  Look at you!”

Felicity gestured to him and it was Oliver’s turn to flinch.

“Maybe I didn’t want to ruin the mood,” Felicity defended, every word louder than the last.  “ _Maybe_ I didn’t want to tell you while you were having a _panic attack_ about your Goddamn _penis_!”

Okay, maybe, he deserved that…Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, hissing, “That doesn’t explain the last four days.”

“The last four days were some of the best of my life,” Felicity screamed back, bringing burning, irrational tears to Oliver’s eyes.  “Maybe I didn’t want to ruin that!  Maybe I thought that the man who was so hesitant to kiss me only a few days ago might be a _tiny bit_ freaked out by the idea of fraking _forever_.”

“Are you saying that the _only_ reason you didn’t tell me is because you were afraid of _my_ reaction?” Oliver snapped back, not as loud as Felicity, but…he may be a masochist, but he wasn’t ready to take responsibility for all of this.  _She_ was the one who lied.

Felicity hesitated, going pale.  And instead of wanting to yell, Oliver wanted to cry.  “It’s okay, I can tell that it isn’t.” He swallowed and looked back out the window.  “But, maybe, it’s also because a big part of you blames me for this.”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Felicity whimpered it this time, the heat fading from her voice as her head fell back, frustration evident in every movement.

“They kidnapped us because of the Arrow, because of _my_ choices.”  Oliver’s eyes searched the landscape, seeing nothing.  “No wonder you don’t want to be tied to me,” he said the last quietly, almost to himself.  Maybe he was ready to take responsibility after all.

“Seriously!?  We’re back to _that_?” 

Felicity’s angry question was not the response Oliver expected…maybe, he had expected her to dispute it, to convince him he was wrong.  Maybe he was counting on that.  Maybe he _always_ counted on that.  And maybe that realization made him unreasonably angry. 

“Yes!  We’re back to _that_!  Because it’s the only _logical_ conclusion!” Oliver yelled, because perhaps if she finally acknowledged that it was true, they could move forward.

“You’re not being _logical_!  There is _no_ logic here!  Logic has left the building!” Felicity yelled back, her hands flying around passionately.  “This is just your old self-flagellating bullshit!  Don’t you remember me saying—”

“You know what I remember?  I’ve spent all fucking day _remembering_ every single thing you _haven’t_ told to me about yourself!” Oliver lashed out, feeling really attacked now and _Felicity_ was the one who had kept an important secret _not him_.  _He_ wasn’t the one who had been less than honest.

“This is one thing!  In all our time together there’s been this _one thing_ that I didn’t have a _chance_ to tell you,” Felicity yelled back.  “Otherwise, you’re the one with the secrets.  I’m an open book—”

Okay, now _that_ really made Oliver livid.  “Are you?  _Are you_ , Felicity?   Because it occurs to me that I know less about you than you know about me.  I can count the number of things I know about you before we met on one hand.”

“That’s not—”

“ _One_ hand, Felicity.  Do you want me to count them?  1.  You went to MIT.  2.  You grew up in Vegas.  3.  Your father left—”

“That's not fair!”

“Isn’t it? You accuse me of keeping secrets when I don’t want to talk about my five years in hell, but at least you know my parents’ names.  Not to mention everything else that you’ve found out about me on the Internet!”

“ _My_ past doesn’t come back to try and _kill_ us!  _My past_ isn’t important.  I just don’t like to talk about it!”

“Like _I_ don’t like talking about being tortured, about watching my friends and family die while I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it!”

Felicity flinched. “You make it sound like I was hiding my past from you on purpose.  I wasn’t—”

“Well, you certainly weren’t sharing—”

“You never _asked_!  You never even seemed _interested_ in my past until now!  You were too self-centered to even realize I wasn’t talking about it!”

Now _that_ was quite the blow.  Oliver stepped back from the force of it.  Nothing hurt like the truth.

As for Felicity, she seemed shocked that it had even come out of her mouth and said more quietly, “That wasn’t fair—”

“No,” Oliver interrupted, just as quietly, his voice rough.  “That _was_ fair…you’re right, I didn’t ask and, maybe, I _was_ too self-centered to think much about your life outside of mine.  Maybe, I didn’t even want to think that you had one.  Maybe, I told myself I was just being respectful in not asking when in reality I was just—”

“Oliver stop!” Felicity rubbed her palms over her eyes.  “You vacillate so quickly between blaming yourself and accusing me, I can’t keep up.”

And that was fair too.  “Well, what do expect, Felicity?” Oliver whispered, feeling beaten.  “We have this amazing week together and now I realize that you can’t really imagine a future with me—”

Felicity cut him off with a loud frustrated scream that stopped Oliver cold.  His eyes wide.

“You know what, I’m done!”

And even with everything else, even prepared, those words cut him.  Deep.  Mortally deep, perhaps.  Oliver closed his eyes.  He’d really done it now.  He’d finally pushed her away.  He had 6 days of heaven and now he’d pushed Felicity right out the door.

Only there was no door.  There was nowhere to go.  No escape.

Then Felicity was using her loud voice again, not the wild screaming voice she had just used, the calm commanding Loud Voice that was so hard not to obey, “You know what?  That was the stupidest thing you have _ever_ said and you’ve said a _lot_ of stupid things!”

Oliver’s eyes flew open, his heart beating wildly.

“And before you accuse me of insinuating that you are intellectually inferior or some other _nonsense,_ you are going to shut up and sit down and listen to me!  Before one of us say something _else_ idiotic that we don’t mean.”

Oliver opened his mouth, to say what he didn’t know, because really, at that moment, he was just glad that it seemed like when Felicity said she was done, she meant she was done arguing and not done _with him_.

But Oliver still mustn’t have moved fast enough, because Felicity held up a hand, saying, “No!  Not a word! Sit _down_!”  She pointed to the bed, but it was the tear that slid down her cheek that had him moving so quickly, doing as she said without a word. 

Oliver’s arms remained tightly crossed, though, his muscles tense, afraid of what she would say next.

Felicity took a shaky breath.  “First…”

Then she shocked Oliver by stepping forward and placing both of her hands flat against his cheeks.  The effect was immediate, his muscles released and his eyes slipped closed.  He hadn’t even known how close he was to tears until one slipped out and Felicity caught it with her thumb.  A sob welled up in his chest as the tension drained from his body and his thoughts cleared.

“ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver whispered, whimpered really, catching her thumb with his lip to press a kiss to the pad.  The anger drained away and now all he wanted to do was kneel at her feet and beg her to tell him how to make it better?  How to go back twenty-four hours and _stay there_?

“See, I think…” Felicity sounded out of breath, her voice wobbly.  “I think it’s been too long without touching each other.”  Her forehead fell to Oliver’s and her hands moved to cup his neck.  “It’s makes us… _irrational_.”

Oliver huffed out a watery laugh, his legs falling open so she could come closer, but when his hands found silk and not skin at her waist, they traveled up to her arms, skimming their length before slipping into the loose sleeves and cupping her shoulders, pulling her close. 

He hadn’t even considered that any of this had to do with their physical distance over the last few hours.  Oliver had noticed weeks ago that his touch soothed Felicity, but hadn’t even contemplated that it was a two-way street.  He was such a fool.  And again, he felt tricked by the Bastards who had adducted them.  Manipulated.

Felicity let out a relieved sounding sigh, sagging forward.  “I’m ready to answer your first question now.  Are you ready to listen?”

Oliver cracked open his eyes to see her wet lashes, her sparking blue eyes, swollen around the edges...he nodded, he didn’t trust himself to speak.  Guilt threatened to overwhelm him.  And fear.  He was still so very afraid of what she was going to say.  But as long as she stayed in his arms they could work it through.  He would do _anything_.

Blowing out a little breath, Felicity began, “When Amy first told me about the genetic match, I was in full Heat fog.  I could barely process anything.  I tried my best to catch what she was saying, but…but all I could really think about was how much I needed _you_.”

“Feli—”

She covered his mouth with her thumbs.  “Shhh.  I need you to let me say _all_ of this first.  Okay?”

Oliver nodded.  After the fit he had just thrown…and the longer he sat there, the more insane and humiliating it all seemed…he owed Felicity that at the very least.

“And then, later, when I was telling you about the genetic manipulation, I was…maybe I should have told you then, but I was…overwhelmed.  It was just so hard to wrap my head around.  Forever is a long time, you know?”

Tell him about it.  But Oliver had to bite his lip to keep from saying something.  It hurt that Felicity hesitated for even a second at the thought of forever with him.  But that wasn’t fair.  Not at all. 

Felicity worked his lip out from between his teeth her thumbs, soothing it, whispering, “I can hear you thinking ugly thoughts.  You really are, secretly, the most insecure man.”

Oliver gave a bitter laugh at that.  He wanted to be able to argue, but after the last half-hour how could he?

“It wasn’t _you_ I was overwhelmed by, you ridiculous man,” Felicity swore and Oliver’s heart skipped a beat.  “Never you.  It’s the _idea_ of Soulmates and forever and how that changes _everything_.  Our entire lives.  I want to be with _you_.  I’ve wanted that for a very long time, but I kinda thought we’d take it step by step.  Fast forwarding to the forever part…scary isn’t the word.  It’s…all I have is ‘ _overwhelming_.’  Do you understand?”

Oliver nodded, feeling like a fool and an asshole, upset at himself for not trusting her more, for losing his temper, for being an insecure idiot.  He rubbed his nose against Felicity’s and the contact felt so good that he nuzzled her check as well, breathing in the smell of her hair, pressing his lips to her cheekbone.

“But I think the thing that really got me,” Felicity confessed, pulling him closer, her wet cheek pressed to his, “wasn’t the forever part or that Soulmates are real, which is kind of mind blowing, btw, but that we don’t have a _choice_ in any of it.  I’m kind of big on free will, if you didn’t notice.”

“I noticed,” Oliver chuckled.

“So, even though I had already chosen you, it bothered me when I was told it hadn’t been my choice after all.  And I was worried…” Felicity paused, swallowing audibly.  “I was worried about how you would take that.  It took so much to get you to give us a chance and I was scared…” She skidded to a stop as her voice broke.

“Shhh shhh…” Oliver rocked her a little, feeling like five times the fool, but maybe that was okay, because maybe Felicity had been one too.  He kind of counted on her being better at this relationship stuff than him, but maybe they were going to have to learn together.

Pressing a kiss to Felicity’s lips, Oliver pulled back to look in her eyes and pushed away the blonde wisps that had fallen in her face and clung because of the tears.  “Do you know what I felt when I first realized that I didn’t have a choice?  That Fate or God or some random genetic mutation had chosen you for me, and more importantly, chosen me for you?”

Felicity’s face scrunched up with emotion.  She shook her head.

Oliver ran a hand over the length of her face.  He loved her _so_ much.  “Relief.  Joy.”  He sucked in a breath before his voice could crack.  “Choosing can be such a burden.  What if you… _I_ chose wrong?  I always seem to make the wrong choice and what if in choosing to be with you…in _us_ choosing each other, something bad were to happen? What if someone died?  What if _you_ died?  Just because I was selfish enough to want to be happy.”

“ _Oliver_ —”

“Shhh,” Oliver pressed a quick kiss to her lips.  This wasn’t the same story she was used to, that she dreaded hearing again.  Felicity needed to listen.  “It’s my turn.   You see…but if there is no choice…if I was _created_ for you, if we were _meant_ to be together, if this is our _Destiny_ …do you have any _idea_ how freeing that is?”

There was a little tremor in Felicity’s lips as they formed a smile.  Her eyes were wet and she sniffled as she murmured, “I never thought of it like that.”

Oliver kissed her then.  It just seemed the thing to do, to taste her lips, to savor the way they moved together with an almost instinctual ease.  It was soft and sweet and it felt like the world was falling back into its proper place.

When Felicity’s lips left his, she licked them as if to savor the taste and Oliver moved to capture the last remnants of her tears with his tongue. 

“That’s beautiful, Oliver,” Felicity murmured, shaking her head. “But if you felt like that, why did you get so upset?”

Feeling like an adolescent fool, Oliver pressed his eyes closed briefly before confessing, “When I found out you had kept it from me, I figured you didn’t feel the same way.”

Felicity pulled back, searching his face.  “About you?”

Trust his genius to realize right away that it was about her loving him and not about how she felt about choices and Soulmates in general.  Oliver nodded.

“No _way_!” Felicity whispered back vehemently, her lips right against his.  “Oliver, I couldn’t possibly love you more than I do.  And that was true before I found out about the Soulmate thing, before our Heat.”

He believed her.  Thank the heavens…he believed her.  But Oliver still couldn’t believe that she could possibly love him half as much as he loved her.  He didn’t think he ever would.  It just didn’t seem conceivable.

“But you were right about something,” Felicity blew out a shaky breath.  “I do…not keep secrets, because I really don’t intentionally hide anything from you, but I…it doesn’t seem like it because all I do is talk…”

Oliver had to chuckle at that.

Felicity smiled softly, continuing, “But I tend to keep the stuff…the stuff that really affects me _in_.  I guess, I just don’t like to say things out loud until I’ve come to terms with them.  Emotionally.  And, I suppose, there are things that I’ve never come to terms with, so I don’t talk about them at all.”

“Like your dad?” Oliver asked tentatively.  Feeling like a heel for accusing her of keeping secrets, but at the same time incredibly blessed to hear her confession.  He had a feeling it wasn’t something she shared much, if ever.

“Yeah,” Felicity breathed, her voice thick.  “My Dad.  My Mom.  Cooper.”

“Cooper?  Who’s Cooper?” Oliver’s chest seized as irrational jealousy surged through him.  That was a man’s name.  And, while, of _course_ , Felicity had had men in her life before him…the idea still made him nauseous.

Felicity stroked his neck and chest and smiled, shaking her head, and the feeling faded.  Some.  “Dead ex-boyfriend.  Not a pretty story.  One I hate to think about, never mind talk about.”

“I know the feeling,” Oliver huffed.  It was the story of his life, really.  And was it sick that he was a little relieved that this Cooper guy was dead?

Felicity’s smile was sad and sympathetic.  “It’s a long story and really off topic right now, but if …?”

And Oliver knew Felicity was offering to tell him everything, but…there were more important things at the moment.  Also, he wasn’t ready to hear about the other men she had been with.  Not now.  “And I need to tell you more about what happened those five years away,” he told her, hoping she would understand that this was his way of showing her he understood it wasn’t the time.  “But you have to understand that most of that was…”

“Painful?”

“Shameful.”  Oliver wanted to close his eyes again, but he forced himself to maintain her gaze.  “I’m ashamed of who I was before I met you.”  And that whispered confession almost broke him.

“Oliver, you should...” Felicity trailed off, then squared her shoulders and licked her lips, taking a steadying breath.  “There is one more thing that I didn’t tell you.”

Oliver’s stomach clenched and flipped over, but he let Felicity talk.  He had learned his lesson about jumping to conclusions without listening first.

“When Amy told me about the Soulmate thing, she also told me about how they chose us.”

Right.  The fucking Arrow thing.  Oliver squeezed his lips together and turned his head away, his muscles tightening.

But Felicity pulled his head back and forced him to meet her gaze.  “Look at me.  There’s more to this than you realize.  Amy told me that they couldn’t bring just any couple through the treatment, that it was too dangerous to give that kind of power to just anyone.”

Oliver tipped his head to the side and searched her face.  Felicity had his full attention now.

“She said that they chose us, because _you_ ,” Felicity smiled, almost proudly _,_ “had endured great tragedy and trials, had been given strength and power.  She wasn’t talking about _now_ , but the past.  About how you still _chose_ to do the right thing.  To be a hero.”

Shaking his head, Oliver almost laughed.  That was a lovely fairytale.  “I haven’t always chosen to do the right thing, Felicity.  There were times when I chose _very_ wrong.  You know that.  You’ve watched me do it and that wasn’t even close to the worst of it.”

Felicity’s fingers fell to his lips, stilling his protests.  “Well, they seem to think that you chose right _enough_.  Or that the end result was worth it.  And so do I.”  And didn’t that just make Oliver feel like he could cry.  “ _They_ think that everything that you went through made you a man that they can trust.  And…” Felicity paused to take a deep breath.  “They also think we’re better together.  That since we’ve been working together, we’ve done amazing things.”

Finally, something he could accept without question.  Oliver smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to the palm of Felicity’s hand.  “Well, I’ve always known that you make me a better man.”

Felicity tipped her head, giving him a melty sort of smile, her eyes tearing up again.  “But what you don’t seem to know…what you can’t seem to _accept_ is how much you make _me_ better.”

It was clear Felicity meant it and that meant the world to him, but…Oliver shook his head.

“Oliver, I was just a timid girl in the IT department.  I may have cared about people, but I never _did_ anything about it.  I was just another random person, leading a quiet, complacent life, wasting my talents, my intellect.  Hiding.  Then _you_ walked into my cubicle.  _You,_ who were trying to make a difference.  You trusted me.  You inspired me.   _You_ made _me_ a better person.”

Letting out a sob, Oliver just…he couldn’t even…a part of him wanted to argue with her, but a bigger part just wanted to breathe her words in, believe them and let them heal his tattered soul…didn’t he need it to be whole if it was going to be bound to hers.  It wasn’t just about him anymore.  It was about _them_.  Forever.

And Oliver just wanted…he needed…he…

With a growl, Oliver yanked Felicity’s body closer and crushed his lips to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> I kind of love the next chapter and not only because the best part about fighting is making up (though it really, really is ;-)), but also because it also starts a whole new part of our adventure.  I really excited about it.
> 
> Onto the more serious stuff.  Firstly, my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who has commented and kudoed (almost at 1000 *so excited*).  I’m very behind on my responses (though, I plan to get to them all) and that is because I’m very behind on my writing/editing schedule.
> 
> Real life has been very time consuming lately and I don’t see that letting up any time soon, especially with the holidays.  So, unfortunately, I’m going to be revising my posting schedule.  Basically, Chapter 14: Challenges, will be up next Sunday as planned.  Then I’m taking two weeks off to catch up on writing and life.  After Thanksgiving, I will post chapters 15 and 16 on consecutive Sundays.  But then, I’m taking December off to concentrate on my family for the holidays.
> 
> I hope to return strong in January with three chapters of AKOI and new chapters of TSTS.  When I restart TSTS I will be focused on that until I can get through the big Olicity resolution before returning to AKOI.
> 
> Again, as always and always _thank you_ to **Ireland1733 and** **Fairytalehearts** for all their ideas, support, and hard work.
> 
> Please, leave a comment, I adore them.  Ideas.  Theories.  Even _constructive_ criticism. 
> 
> However, I have had a small but very _memorable_ group (I have no idea if it is one person using different names or 100 people) who have been reading my stories and becoming angry that I don’t portray Felicity the way they want Felicity portrayed.
> 
> I imagine that those people will see this chapter and somehow imagine that it is anti-Felicity (which is a gross misinterpretation.  This was a chapter about two normal, flawed people with insecurities getting into a normal relationship fight and working through it).
> 
> If you are one of those people who feel I have repeatedly maligned Felicity…first, why the _hell_ are you still reading? 
> 
> Hit Back.  Unsubscribe.  Go read something you enjoy.  _Please_.  Because the only reason I can come up with that you are still reading something that you hate, that is clearly upsetting you, is so that you can leave me a hateful and nasty comments with the _intention_ of making me feel bad.    I am ashamed to admit, if that has been your goal, it has worked.  Congratulations, you put a knot in the pit of my stomach and made writing and being involved in the fandom less fun.
> 
> That doesn’t mean I am changing my pov on the characters or that I’m going to change what I write.  I’m not leaving, even if I have to take breaks for my mental health.  But I’m still going to write my stuff, my way.  You can write your stuff your way and I promise to never leave a nasty comment.
> 
> But, really, I suggest you figure out why you are so angry that spewing hate at strangers on the internet makes you feel better.  My guess is that this is about a whole lot more than _Arrow_ for many of you.  Seriously, ladies, the details of how we all ship the _same two fictional characters_ should not cause this much angst.
> 
> Okay, I’m stepping off my soap box now.  Please, do not leave mean or nasty comments.  I will not respond to them.  If you would like to have a mature conversation, feel free to direct message me (off anon) on Tumblr.
> 
> Happy reading and Happy Halloween,
> 
> Emmy


	14. Challenges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was heartbreaking.

It was so easy to forget, or not even realize in the first place…because Felicity really hadn’t had a clue before their abduction how bad it was…that underneath Oliver’s strong, confident, stubborn-as-hell shell, he was…not broken…but _fragile_ , insecure.  He really thought unbearably little of himself, had no idea of his own, _tremendous_ , self-worth.

Oliver kept striving to do better, _be_ better.  But he never thought it was good enough.  No wonder he was drowning in guilt.

And the fact that Felicity had just added to all that insecurity by being too foolish, too cowardly, to bring up the Soulmate thing that very first day…it made her sick to her stomach.  And ashamed of herself.  It turned out that they weren’t that different after all.

Not that a lot of the things Oliver had yelled at her weren’t uncalled for, they seriously had been, but Felicity blamed that on a long stressful day and… _skin withdrawal_.

After six days of almost constant, and excessive, skin on skin contact, to go with only being able to hold hands, if that, for hours…by the end, Felicity was so tense she thought she’d explode.  And not in the fun bedroom way she’d exploding lately.  In a desidedly unfun way.  Which she supposed was exactly what happened.  To both her and Oliver. 

There wasn’t a doubt in Felicity’s mind that it was _that_ lack of contact that had made Oliver so over-the-top irrational.  The man who had just screamed at her just wasn’t the man she knew. Oh, she knew the insecurities were real, and, even if she hated it, he had some justifyable complaints about her…but the way he approached it, the rage…not Oliver.

And she had been  right.  The moment Felicity touched his face, she could feel the tension drain away.  From both of them.  When their connection was able to flow freely, it recharged her…them.  And it was…it was… _amazing_.  Everything was just… _clear_.  He was _her_ Oliver again.

When Amy first used the word, Felicity hadn’t been sure that she believed in ‘Soulmates’.  But she believed now.  And it was beautiful. 

She was blessed to have found hers.

And more than that, Felicity was blessed that it was Oliver, that this beautiful heroic soul was bound to hers.

Felicity needed to make Oliver understand how wonderful he was.  It was her job now, to show him how completely he enriched her life and made her a better person, as she should have days ago.  Then she needed to tell him—

Oliver’s lips crashed onto hers with a passion that stunned her, which was absurd given that passion was pretty much a state of being for them.  But he took Felicity’s mouth as if he were trying to devour her…no, that wasn’t right.  Not devour.  Claim.  He was trying to _claim_ her.  Maybe even merge them into one person, as cheesy as that sounded.

And it was, maybe, just shy of being too rough, but very soon Felicity had trouble…

What had she been thinking about?  Had they been fighting?  Was Felicity supposed to tell him something?  Did it even matter?  Oliver was all consuming, the only thing she saw…heard…felt.  He was everything.  And, maybe, that was his goal. 

But if that was what Oliver needed, shouldn’t Felicity give it to him?  She couldn’t come up with one reason not to.

One large hand tangled in her hair, the other splayed across her spine, spread so wide that it seemed to cover her entire back, making Felicity feel completely enveloped.  Oliver’s legs closed around her thighs, pulling her in.  His mouth opened hers wide and the strong possessive stroke of his tongue melted her.  The pressure of his lips and the suction and…

Felicity wanted to respond, but could do little more than accept him.  It was overwhelming.  In a good way.  In a _great_ way.  Oliver was everywhere.  She felt something frantic bubbling up inside her as the fear and anger and desperation she had been feeling over the course of the afternoon coalesced and transformed into scorching hot arousal and _need_.

It was different from the haze of Heat, but, somehow, no less intense.  Maybe even more so, because it was more _real_ , the edge of perception sharper.

Felicity moaned into Oliver’s mouth.  There was no way she was going to win the battle with his tongue.  He was too strong, too sure, too determined.  So, she sucked it deeper into her mouth and Oliver responded by angling his head and clashing their teeth together, his growl vibrating throughout the kiss, through the entirety of both of their bodies.

Wrapping her arms as far around him as she could, Felicity held on through the onslaught.  She held on as Oliver lifted her and threw her onto the bed so quickly that it should have left her dizzy, would have, if her mind hadn’t been already spinning.  His mouth, his whole body never disengaged with hers, not for a second and then his delicious weight was on top of her, pressing her into the soft mattress and her thighs parted on reflex, already welcoming him between them.

Oliver’s silk covered cock was warm and perfect against her thigh and Felicity _had_ to feel it, to touch it with her fingertips, close her palm around it, over the decadent clothing.  And when she did, it was everything she imagined, silk over warm flesh and she hoped, _prayed_ , that is was as good…no, _better_ for him.

Oliver growled and reared back, because, of _course,_ it must feel incredible.  He bit Felicity’s lip and grabbed her hands, lightening quick.  She didn’t even realize what was happening until her arms were stretched above her head, pinned by Oliver’s strong grip.

Felicity stared up at Oliver as she panted, held fast, helpless, vulnerable and…Oliver’s hair was sticking straight up and his eyes were wild and Felicity felt…safe, aroused, loved.  And she wanted more.

Oliver growled again.  His teeth found her neck and bit down, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to sting and Felicity loved it.  She arched her back and moaned, throwing her legs wide in invitation.  She seemed to be so much more flexible now and she relished in it.   

Oliver responded, but not by removing his pants as she wanted…Felicity so craved _full_ skin on skin contact and, though, her dress had ridden up to pool just below her breasts and he was bare-chested, it wasn’t nearly enough.

But Oliver, clearly, had other plans and he was very much in charge tonight so…

He lowered his silk covered cock to press it’s length against her sodden, barely-there, lace panties and thrust until it brushed against her clit, torturing Felicity with sensation, the layers of soft, damp fabric, pushing against her folds and…

Felicity threw back her head and moaned.  She couldn’t find any actual words, though they might be helpful just then to express what she wanted.  Which was just Oliver…Oliver…Oliver…

Her eyes slipped closed and Felicity laced her fingers with his, gripping them, using the way Oliver was restraining her to anchor herself and increase her pleasure as she savored the feel of the decadent fabric and flesh sliding together against her most sensitive places.

When Felicity was finally able to crack open her eyes, Oliver was staring down at her with an almost frightening intensity, adoringly possessive, serious yet wild as he took in her every reaction and held her trapped between his strong arms and his silk covered cock.

Felicity tried to say something, to tell him that she needed him inside her already.  That’s all she wanted… _needed_.  But as she opened her mouth to try and form the words, Oliver thrust against her clit in such a way that…the only thing that emerged from her mouth was a scream as an exquisite burst of pleasure unexpectedly took her over, ricocheting through her body, leaving her panting and gasping for air.

Oliver leaned down, growling in her ear, “That’s one.”

Blinking her eyes, trying to clear her vision _and_ her mind, Felicity could only pant, “One what—?  _Mmmfff….”_

Oliver captured her mouth, sucking roughly at Felicity’s lips, making her dizzy _again_ as he transferred both of her hands to one of his. 

Apparently, he wasn’t ready to let her go.  That was okay.  Fantastic, actually.  Felicity could get into a little light bondage with Oliver.  He was sexy as frack when he was being all dominant and throwing her around with all those bulgy muscles.  Maybe some silk ties…

It wasn’t something Felicity had ever been particularly into in the past, but with a man she could trust as implicitly as she could Oliver, she was all in.  As long as she eventually got the chance to turn the tables.  She wanted to see Oliver Spread Eagle and at her mercy.  Wow, wouldn’t _that_ be something.  Maybe they could buy a wrought iron bed and she could show him just how much she worshiped him. 

But not now.

Now, Oliver seemed to need to stake his claim.  Which was both absurd…didn’t they just get _proof_ that Felicity was undeniably his, forever…and, also, really, really _awesome_.  Part of her craved this claiming as much as he seemed to need it.

But when Felicity felt Oliver’s fingers slip under her panties, just where the delicate lace wrapped around her hips and begin to pull…

Felicity, somehow, someway, managed to yank her lips from his, panting desperately, “Don’t rip the panties.  They may not give me another pair.”

Another time.  Another place.  Yes.  Definitely.  Felicity wanted Oliver to rip dozens of pairs of panties off of her, but not the first and only pair she’d been allowed in over a month.

Oliver let out a growl of frustration and…was it odd that Felicity was learning how to categorize his different _growls_?  He released her hands to shimmy down her body, pushing her dress up as he went,  as far up as it would go without coming off.  His lips dragged from between her breasts, down her belly, until he found the edge of those precious panties and closed his teeth over them.  Gently.  A sharp contrast to the feral look in his eyes.

“Oh _frack_!”

Felicity’s neck arched, but she forced herself to keep her eyes open.  She didn’t want to miss a second of this.  Oliver locked his eyes with hers and they were so blue and he was looking at her as if she were his prey as he oh so slowly pulled down that scrap of lace and silk.

The sight alone had her throbbing again, almost _sobbing_ as Oliver slowly, slowly pulled the panties down her thighs.  Felicity pointed her toes for him, watching in fascination as he finished, dragging them over her ankles and toes, then tossing the fabric from his teeth with a shake of his head, like a wild animal.

Then Oliver sank his teeth into the fleshy part of Felicity’s heel before running those pearly whites up her leg, leaving a sharp streak of sensation.

Felicity couldn’t watch anymore, couldn’t keep her eyes open, couldn’t…she wanted Oliver _inside_ her.  She wanted his knot. But in contrast to how this bout had started, frantic and hard and fast, it had turned into something entirely different.  Oliver had, apparently, decided that this was to be a slow and thorough claiming.  

And, even if Felicity wanted to, she couldn’t find it in her to protest.  So she waited.  Waited with baited breath to feel that magical tongue on her core, feel those perfect lips closing around her clit.  Yet, when Oliver’s lips reached the juncture of her thighs he only gave a light nip to the hood and continued up her torso.

Felicity whimpered in protest, pulling at Oliver’s hair, while, somehow, trying to push him back down at the same time.

But Oliver was immovable. Of course, he was.  The stubborn bastard.  This was his show.  He was doing things his way and he was nothing if not strong.  Strong muscles.  Strong  will.  Strong mind.

And where Oliver normally would have chuckled and teased her attempts to move things along, he was all seriousness as he dragged the edge of his teeth over the curve of Felicity’s breast, ignoring her nonverbal protests.  Maybe it was time to try some verbal ones. 

“Oliver, I need… _Oliver_ …”

He nipped the side of her breast.  In punishment?  Was Felicity not supposed to to—

“Ahhh…”

Oliver fell on her breast, on her nipple, like a man ravenous, sucking as much of her flesh into his mouth as he could.  And, at the same time, at the same _moment,_ he plunged two fingers into her core.

“Gahhhhd!”  Frack.  Okay, she was not expecting that.  Felicity arched off of the bed, convulsing.  Lord, that felt amazing.

And Oliver didn’t pause for a second.  He kept sucking on her nipple with long, rough pulls, sending bolts of electricity directly to her already throbbing clit.  His fingers pumped, pushing in as far as he could with every thrust, stretching her enough to really feel it, but not enough…

“Oli—Arrr….”

Oliver’s thumb found her clit and it only took one light circle before Felicity was coming again…flying…pleasure echoing throughout her body.

Part of her had wondered if sex could possibly be as  good as it had been during Heat.  But this was _better_.  It was fracking existential.  Now Felicity just needed Oliver _inside_ _her_ before she passed out.  All she wanted was to fall asleep with him knotted inside her.

“That’s two,” Oliver murmured in her ear.

“Two?”  What the…?  How high was Oliver planning to count?  As incredible as this was, Felicity wasn’t sure how much more she could take.  “Why are we,” she sucked in a great gulp of air, trying to catch her breath, “counting?”

Oliver ignored the question, his fingers still inside her, moving just enough for her to feel it as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. 

Felicity’s eyes rolled back into her head and she gasped, repeating, “Is there a reason we’re counting?” Because she had a feeling that if Oliver made it to two, he planned to keep going.  He wasn’t the kind of guy who stopped at two.  Of anything.

But, again, Oliver ignored her, instead, sucking on her neck, then soothing it with his tongue.  When he finally spoke it wasn’t an answer she expected.

“I want all of you.  Every part.  I want to taste every inch, have you surround me.  I want everyone to know.  I want to fuck you against that window for everyone to see that you are _mine_ , will always be mine and I…”

Oliver sounded wild, desperate, even apologetic… and just a tiny bit lost.  Her poor baby, this whole thing had him tied in knots.

“I don’t know how to control it…Felicity….It’s…”

Felicity ran her hand over his face, soothing.  “I’m all yours.”  In so so many ways.  In every way.  How to convince him?

Taking a shaky breath, Oliver let out a whimper and closed his eyes.  “ _Fe-li-cit-y…_ ”

With a firm push, Felicity was able to throw Oliver off balance enough for her to squirm away from him, his fingers falling away as he watched her with complete confusion and maybe even the first sprinkling of hurt.

But all Oliver needed was patience.  Felicity was giving him what he wanted, what he _required_.  She just hoped it was enough.

Felicity almost stumbled over to the window, her legs like jelly, and took a deep breath.  She considered removing her dress, but Oliver seemed to like it on, so she decided to leave that up to him.  Leaning over, she rested her hands on the window, presenting him with her backside, inviting him to take her there as he almost had this morning, as she _wished_ they’d had time to do that morning.

Lord, had she really tried to talk him out of it?  What was wrong with her?  Felicity wished she could go back and do the whole day over.  Tossing her now tangled hair, Felicity looked at Oliver over her shoulder.  Then, again, maybe the end was worth the beginning.    

“So take me.  I’m yours.  I don’t care who knows it.”  She was surprised how sultry it came out.  She was surprised that she _meant_ it.  To be honest, Felicity hadn’t really thought she had it in her.

Oliver sat up, leaning back on his arms, flushed and panting, his erection tenting his pants obscenely.  “Fe-li-cit-y…?  Do you know what you’re saying?  If we can see them, someone might be able to see—”

“I don’t care.”  And, in that moment, she really really didn’t.  Who cared if some figure on the beach saw them making love hundreds of feet above them?  Who cared if some weird clones saw?  They probably had cameras in here anyway.  Felicity doubted that they got anything out of watching, but she was far beyond caring either way.  Maybe she even found it exciting in some deep dark recess of her mind.  “I don’t care who sees.”

Straightening up, the predatory posture retook Oliver, and he stood from the bed with the grace of a warrior, a growl rumbling from his chest, though his lips barely parted.  His eyes were intense as he walked, no _…stalked_ over to her.  He had that great cat thing going for him again and when his tongue peaked out, Felicity’s breath hitched, her palms going sweaty where they rested on the glass, watching Oliver as Oliver watched her with a fiery possessiveness in his eyes.

It took him so long to touch her that Felicity jumped when Oliver’s fingers finally fell on her thigh.  But it only took a second before she arched into his touch as he ran his hand up, over her body, pushing the dress up around her waist before using both hands to caress and knead the globes of her ass, brushing against the places that she needed his touch the most, but never quite taking possession like he’d promised he would.   Now that he’d put that thought in her head she _needed_ it. 

Felicity needed to be _taken_.  By Oliver Queen, her Soulmate, right there at the window for anyone on this Godforsaken Island to see.

Oliver’s hands wandered around to Felicity belly, pushing up the frothy dress, inch by excruciating inch.

“ _Oliver_...” Felicity half-moaned,  half-reprimanded. “Are you going to fuck me against this window or what?”

A chuckle burst from his lips, almost without permission, and Felicity took some slight comfort in at least getting Oliver to loosen up _that_ much again.

Then he said, “Eventually.”

Frack.  Felicity felt like she was going to spontaneously combust.  She wasn’t sure if she wanted to kick him out of frustration or kiss him for the most beautifully intense anticipation she had ever experienced.

But Felicity’s impatience won out and she whined, “ _Eventually_?  I’m dying here.  Why—?”

Again, Oliver made her lose her train of thought and scream at the same time as his teeth sank into her ass.  And before Felicity could even protest, his palm was cupping her mound.  The pressure was light, he just held her, but it was just enough to make her insane and crave more and…she needed to take control of this gravy train.

“Oliver, love, you know what this position is great for?”  Felicity arched her back and wiggled her backside.

“Mmm, so many things.  I can’t pick just one.”

This time it was Felicity’s turn to growl in frustration.  What was _up_ with him…? Well, besides the obvious.  Oliver hadn’t come since last night.  She’d have thought he would be desperate to be inside her.  And, still, his hands continued to wander. He fell to his knees and that was _not_ where she wanted him. 

Oliver pulled Felicity’s dress even further up to capture her already swollen and sensitive nipple in his mouth.  God fracking dammit!  Where did he get the stamina?  Was he _trying_ to torture her?

Moaning, pushing down into his mouth, Felicity tried again, panting, “Oliver, baby, I’ve already had two spectacular orgasms.  I don’t think…oh God…frack, that feels good…don’t you think it’s time to move on to…mmmm, _God_ …the main course.”

Oliver disengaged just long enough to murmur, “Not enough,” before pulling her other breast deep into his mouth.

“Not enough _what_?”

It was hard to think with him doing that.  What did Oliver _want_ from her?  She’d give it to him.  Felicity swore she would.  She just needed to know what he wanted. 

“From where I’m standing it’s more than en—oh my God, what are you doing?!”

Oliver didn’t answer.  What did she expect given this weird mood he was in?  But then, he was lifting her, turning her, pressing her back against the window.  He was on his knees in front of her.  He pulled Felicity’s legs over his shoulders so he was completely supporting her and…he buried his fracking face between her legs.

“Hoooly _fuuuu_...”

And that was Felicity’s last semblance of a coherent word, of a coherent _thought_.

Oliver was devouring her.  Like he did with her mouth…with her breasts…only more so and…his lips sucked at her labia, his tongue buried itself inside her as his nose pressed and circled her clit…

It was too much and Felicity was crying out almost continuously, her hands pressed against the cool glass next to her hips to center herself.  Not that it did any good.  She rolled her head back and forth on the window, her hair sticking to her sweaty cheeks and forehead.  She was going to shatter.

Then Oliver moved his thumb down the crease of her ass, teasing her sphincter, making Felicity terrified and wildly curious as to what he would do next, but his thumb kept moving, hooking into her wet channel along with his tongue and curling until white hot pleasure burst behind her eyelids.

And then he was sucking on her clit and now it was most _definitely_ too much.  And somehow… not enough…and Felicity barely had any working brain cells left to comprehend that she was seated on Oliver’s massive shoulders while he ate her like she was the first meal he’d had in months…her body was consumed with pleasure and she couldn’t think…couldn’t think.  Wave after wave.  It wasn’t stopping…

Then Oliver was standing, lifting her with him, letting her slide down his body, her legs falling from his shoulders to the crook of his elbows and…

“That’s three,” Oliver panted, licking his lips and Felicity moaned as her blurry eyes deliriously followed the course of that tongue.

“Three?”  Felicity actually didn’t think that was right and… “Oh God, you’re counting orgasms! Why are you counting…?  Not a fracking competition, Oliver…and, honestly, I think we’re past three so…oh _God_.”

How was she even talking?   Felicity didn’t even think that last one was over, but she _knew_ she was incoherent and that her brain had melted.  But she couldn’t tell Oliver that her orgasm was still pulsing through her, who knew what he might do…and how did one even count at this point when there was no clear beginning or end to the pleasure…oh God, was she about to be the first woman in history to fake _finishing_ an orgasm? 

“If it was, baby, you won.  Seriously.  It’s a land-slide.  Full points to you.”

Felicity managed to get Oliver to crack a half-smile and he murmured, “It’s a person goal I’m trying to reach.  A challenge.  I challenged myself.”

“To _what_?”  Was Oliver even making sense anymore?  She couldn’t tell.  Felicity gasped as he pushed her more fully against the glass, adjusting her dress up so that their slick torsos could press together deliciously.

“Five.”

“Five?  Five _orgasms_?” Felicity screeched.

But Oliver’s eyes were narrowed in concentration and…he dropped Felicity onto his cock. 

Oliver’s cock.  The one that Felicity had so affectionately named Supercock…so _not_ small, but still _so_ perfect and she thought that she screamed, but she wasn’t completely sure.  The pleasure, which had never fully faded, spiked again, climbing, climbing…

Her eyes rolling back, Felicity babbled, desperate, “I don’t think…don’t think I can handle five…”  But maybe this already was five.  Or six.  Who the frack knew?  How was she supposed to count anyway?

“Sure you can,” Oliver grunted, his voice muffled against her cheek as he thrust into her, hard and deep.

“Gonna die!”  Felicity didn’t even know how she was forming words.  Didn’t know what she was saying.  “Too much.”

Oliver’s chest rumbled with what might have been a laugh.  The lace of her dress was sticking to her upper chest and it was so hot and it was starting to irritate her skin. 

“Want this…want this _off_ ,” Felicity muttered, grabbing for the hem with one hand, the other clutching Oliver closer, her actions as contradictory as her thoughts.

Oliver stopped thrusting and, pulling her more tightly to him, he stepped back from the window.  Giving her space, he panted, “Kay.  Off.”

Well, at least Oliver was as coherent as Felicity was.  Progress.

Fumbling, Felicity yanked the dress off and threw it across the room.  She was barely able to get used to the feel of the air against her skin before Oliver slammed her back against the blessedly cool window and caught her in a deep, teeth mashing kiss that she just wanted to drown in.

But Felicity’s coordination, though improved, just wasn’t up for this.  Oliver was thrusting again and her mind was spinning from the endless pleasure.  Her lips fell from his, trailing a messy path along his cheek.

Oliver’s mouth fell to her chin.  “Felicity, Felicity, Sweet…can’t, I—”

“Please…please, let go, baby,” Felicity pleaded.  “So good.  So good.  _Best_.  Love you so much.  But…can you, _please_ , just fuck me until you come.  Nothing to— _ahhhh_ …”

Prove.  Felicity was gonna say ‘prove’.  But it was impossible because Oliver had thrown her on the side of the bed and was pounding into her.  He had, apparently, _finally_ reached the end of his endurance and she loved every second of it.  _Loved_ loved loved when he was like this.

Oliver needed to hear that.  Felicity forced herself to try and tell him, but it was so _hard._   “Love…”  So difficult to form words.  The pleasure was endless.  Her muscles were limp.  They wouldn’t respond. “Love you,” she sucked in a gasping breath, “like this.  Like…always... _always_ love you.”

Oliver let out another growl, picking up speed and force.

Lucidity was gone.  Felicity held on.  Her eyes closed.  Lights flashed…she thought she probably passed out. 

So, that wasn’t something unique to Heat either.  Good to know.

Oliver was panting and dripping with sweat as he picked his head off of her shoulder, his face splitting open in a wide grin.  “Did we make it to five?”

Felicity widened her eyes incredulously.  How could that _possibly_ matter?  But even though she wanted to roll her eyes, she knew her poor, incredible Oliver was way too fragile right now for that.  “Baby, I don’t know what the hell that was.  Call it five.  Call it one endless orgasm.  Call it 52 running together.  Whatever you want.  Whatever you want.”

And, at long last, Oliver relaxed and smiled a real happy smile.  “As long as you’re satisfied—”

Felicity just had to laugh.  “Satisfied?  Oliver, I would have been satisfied after spectacular orgasm number one.  You’ve blown my _mind_.”

And, thankfully, that seemed to _finally_ be enough.  Oliver collapsed down on his elbows, his weight pressing against her, but not fully on her.  He looked almost relieved.  “I guess we don’t need Heat after all.”

Was _that_ what this was all about?  “Clearly not.”  Felicity reached for his head with weak, uncoordinated fingers…was it bedtime yet?…and pulled him down for a slow, deep kiss, all tongue and lips, but without the pressure and the desperation and the teeth.

Felicity clenched her inner walls around him…she didn’t feel Oliver’s knot.  She pulled her lips away.  “You _did_ come, right?”

Oliver looked confused.  Maybe, even a little delirious.  “Yeah.”

“Oh, thank _God_!”

Oliver’s eyes widened, his eyebrows flying up. 

Shaking her head, Felicity confessed, “It was amazing, but I can’t take anymore.”

Chuckling, Oliver answered her with a kiss, his arms coming around her to roll them, the way he usually did, so that they could rest knotted together without him crushing her, but… something was different. 

Both of them froze, looking down. 

Oliver had slipped out.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Felicity muttered before she could stop herself, regretting the words before they had even fully emerged from her mouth and wishing, as hard as she had _ever_ wished before, that she could shove them back in again.

And, just as Felicity feared, for that split second before he was able to regain composure, Oliver looked stricken.

“Not in _you_ ,” Felicity rushed to reassure, praying it wasn’t too late.  “I’m not dissapoint—”

Oliver smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and cut Felicity off with a soft kiss.  “I know.”  Then he was gone.  Out of bed.  Out of her arms.  _Frack_.

“Wait?  Where are you going?”  Dammit, now what?  Felicity pushed herself up to her elbows, trying not to panic.

“Just a second,” Oliver called, then emerged from the bathroom with a warm, damp towel.  “At least now I can do this.”  He cleaned her with soft, soothing strokes, but Felicity couldn’t help but think he sounded sad.

“That’s nice,” she murmured, because it was and because she wanted to go back in time again.  Felicity ran her hand through his hair and Oliver smiled.  A little.  “Though, you are _not_ getting away without post-coital cuddles, mister.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Felicity opened her arms to him and Oliver tossed the towel aside and came to her.  But there was still something off.  She could feel it.

“Here.  Now we can cuddle in new ways,” Felicity forced brightness into her tone, guiding Oliver to lay his head on her breast.

As Felicity had hoped, Oliver sighed, some of the tension receeding as he wrapped his arms around her and snuggled in, his eyes slipping closed and his legs tangling with hers.

“Better?” Felicity whispered, her short nails drawing patterns on Oliver’s skull and back.

“Mmm.” 

Felicity gave Oliver a few minutes to elaborate.  He didn’t, so she swallowed and pressed on, “So, I guess the knot is only a Heat thing?”

All Felicity got was a shrug in response.

“That’s good, right?”

“I guess.”  Oliver lifted his face enough to peer up at her.  “But _disappointing_.”

Her _Goddamn_ mouth.  Why couldn’t it stay shut for _once_?  “I get disappointed when the chocolate cake is gone too, but that doesn’t mean it’s not for the best,” Felicity whispered, carefully holding his gaze.

The corner of Oliver’s lip quirked up and he turned his head more to look into her eyes.  Felicity took that as encouragement.

“It’s probably better that it’s saved as a treat for special occasions.  It was rather limiting.”

Oliver’s smile didn’t change, but, miraculously, it spread to his eyes.  “That so?” he asked, pressing a light kiss to her breast.

“Think of all the things we don’t have to worry about now.  Sex at the Foundry…” That got Oliver’s attention.  “Sex on your desk at QC.”  Felicity smiled, getting into this.  “In the back seat of the Bentley…”

Oliver chuckled.  “But not while Digg is driving.”

“ _Nooo_!” Oh dear God, no.  “Not when Digg is driving.  Oooo….do you think you could manage something on the back of the Ducati?  You are _sooo_ hot riding the Ducati.”

And that, finally, produced a real, rolling laugh.  “I think I can come up with something.”

Felicity shivered, just thinking about it.  God, this was going to be awesome.  “Oh good.  Yup.  Think about all the possibilities.  Bath sex.  Shower sex is sooo back on the table.”  Oliver laughed again, squeezing her and laying his head back down, while Felicity continued to muse and massage his scalp.  “Beach sex, ocean sex…there’s got to be more…”

“That’s a good place to start.”  Oliver’s eyes closed.  He looked happy again.  Thank God.

Felicity let out a yawn before she even realized she was tired.  Well, she had realized that she was tired but—

“We should talk about everything we saw today,” Oliver whispered.

Another yawn escaped at the mere idea of _that_ conversation.  Going over everything…it just sounded so _exhausting_.  And Oliver’s breath had already started to slow and become rhythmic against her.

“Nap first,” Felicity insisted, her own eyes falling closed.

“Nap first,” Oliver agreed.  He reached over and turned out the light.

 

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

 

 

The tests lasted for days.  More than a week, Oliver thought.  Even with his excellent sense of time it was hard to keep track, or to even care.  It didn’t matter what day it was.  One ran into the other.

The assessments were endless.  Physical.  Mental.  Emotional.  Even if that last was unintentional.  Though, maybe it wasn’t.  Who knew?

Mornings were filled with the strangest puzzles and…games?  Oliver didn’t even know what to call them, but he supposed that they would fall into the category of games.  He even thought Felicity enjoyed most of them.  He found some of them interesting, some annoying, others frustrating.  But, mostly, he was stuck trying to figure out what the purpose of it all was.

There were simulations and word games and endless computerized challenges.  There were rooms that they had to escape from, literal puzzles and figurative ones, mazes that they walked through and ones they manipulated with their hands.

Oliver did better than expected.  Well, better than _he_ expected anyway.  He kept thinking his head hurt, until he remembered that wasn’t something he was capable of feeling any longer.

The Doppelgangers seemed pleased enough with his abilities and Felicity seemed proud, though she completely blew him out of the water on most of the cognitive challenges.  Even the clones seemed completely astounded at how fast her brain was working.  And the crazy thing, she was holding back.  It was something they had agreed to do during their whispered shower conversations.

Sometimes, though, on the bigger simulations and full room puzzles, they got to work together and Oliver could tell that was where they really shined.  They’d actually made a Bobby speechless, something he wouldn’t have thought possible.  And Amy was practically bouncing off the wall with excited pride. 

 _Their_ Amy.  Felicity swore she could tell which one was theirs, but Oliver couldn’t imagine how.  He’d never met a set of twins who looked as alike as these clones did.

Afternoons were spent in the gym, which Oliver preferred, obviously.  There, it was his turn to figure out how much to show their captors and how much he could get away with holding back.

Because the things he could do now…it was kind of terrifying.  Because Oliver _knew_ that his strength, his speed, his skills… were _not_ normal.  Oh, it wasn’t like he was suddenly at  Incredible Hulk levels.  He didn’t think he’d be throwing cars into buildings any time soon.  But he was pretty sure he could lift one off of someone.  Maybe not over his head, but still…it was weird.  Not… _human_.  At least, not like any he knew of.

Oliver wouldn’t let himself make Mirakuru comparisons.  It was too disturbing.  But there were times when he slipped and he thought, maybe, he was even stronger than Slade’s army had been and he wondered what would have happened if Oliver had encountered his old friend and rival the way he was now.

And Felicity…her speed and agility were easily up to Sara’s levels and her strength was catching up fast.  Oliver had no doubt that she would surpass the Canary soon, even without League of Assassins training, because their abilities seemed to grow every day.

But Oliver refused to make that comparison out loud either.  He knew that with a little training Felicity could easily fight next to him and he didn’t want that.  He needed her safe at the Foundry, guiding him through the coms.  Both because of her intellect and for the sake of his sanity.

But that awkward, clumsy, babbling girl Oliver had known had gone the way of her glasses and there was something incredible in her place.

There were times when Oliver felt the need to mourn the loss, glasses and all, but then he reminded himself that it was just her body they had transformed.  Her Soul was still Felicity.  _His_ Felicity.  Not even _they_ could change that.

On the morning of the ninth day…maybe tenth…post Heat, Amy woke them up.  That in and of itself was unusual.  The routine was Oliver and Felicity woke on their own, had some time to relax, shower, and spend some time together before Amy brought breakfast and told them of their ‘plans’ for the day.  The plans were usually pretty similar.

Amy had _never_ shown up at dawn before. 

But she came, whispering and smiling, telling them that something ‘ _special’_ was planned for that day.  And if that didn’t send shivers down his spine, Oliver didn’t know what did.

The young girl left them food and clothing and the ‘ _promise’_ of being back in a half-hour.  They were actually given undergarments that day.  And shoes.  Stark white tennis shoes with soft ankle socks that felt like an incredible luxury.

Felicity bounced with glee, hugging the shoes to her.  “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Oliver shrugged, feeling suddenly exhausted.  He wasn’t sure if he wanted to contemplate what this all meant.  He was on edge.  He knew every time their cheerfully insane prison guards changed things up, they were in for an unpleasant twist.

“We’re going outside, silly!” Felicity pointed to the window where they had seen couples similarly dressed, walking on the beach.  It made sense that it was the next step for them as well.

It would be a great opportunity.  To learn more about the Island.  Maybe to talk to the other captives.  Plan an escape.  And Oliver wouldn’t mind a day off from the Goddamn tests either. 

But, still, Oliver’s stomach twisted unpleasantly.  He couldn’t help but feel there was a catch.  Wasn’t there _always_ a catch?

This time, the antechamber opened into a different hallway, this one with stone walls.  So, it was an elevator after all.  Oliver wondered what else he had been wrong about.

They had entered this apparent elevator with Amy and a Brian, but three more Brians met them on the other side of the door.  And at the end of the hall, in front of an enormous metal door, were two additional Brians and a Bobby.  The Bobby slapped tracking devices on them, but this didn’t dim Felicity’s excitement.  It was practically bubbling over.

Oliver tried to share Felicity’s optimism.  Clearly, she was right.  They were going to be allowed to wander the island.  Why else bother with trackers?

But Oliver had a really hard time relaxing in the presence of so many Brians.  There was no way Oliver could take them all.  And they were so damn creepy, with their identical faces and their identical blank expressions.

They stepped out into a wilderness.  It was warm, but not hot enough that it was comfortable being shirtless and Oliver really didn’t think they were going to be kind enough to give him a sweatshirt.

There were dirt roads leading out in several directions.  A row of SUVs and four by four trucks.  More Brians.  Endless fucking Brians.  God, Oliver hated them.  Another Bobby.  A Dr. Ann.  It seemed it was quite the occasion, Oliver and Felicity getting to take a walk.

Where the hell were they taking them?  How big was this island, anyway?

But before Oliver could ask…

Dr. Ann nodded and, _instantly_ , there were three Brians on him.  One grabbing each arm and the other seizing Oliver around the waist from behind, pulling him backward, yanking his hand from Felicity’s.

“ _Oliver_!”

“Get the fuck off!  Fucking…Bastards!”

Oliver fought and growled.  Thrashed and kicked.  He fought with everything he had.  He thought that they struggled to hold him, that he hurt them in some way.  He thought he was gaining _some_ leeway to get free, to get to Felicity…

If they could make into the forest…Oliver could survive there, hide.  He knew he… _they_ could…

But the Brians just kept appearing, any advantage Oliver gained was met with more hands.  He was lifted from the ground, hands restraining his legs as he fought like a wild animal.  He couldn’t let them do this!  Fucking assholes!  They were _not_ taking him!

“ _Felicity_!  Don’t you fucking touch her!  I swear to God...”

Through a sea of clones, Oliver saw Felicity staring after him, stunned, stricken, as Amy pulled at her hand.  At least, they weren’t hurting her.  They were just separating them.

Holy _fuck_.  They were _separating_ them!

Oliver had sworn to protect her.  And they were taking him from her.  No.  No!  They were _not_ taking him from Felicity!  He couldn’t allow it!  _Wouldn’t_!

He fought harder, roaring his outrage, but then he was being thrown into the back of a truck, shoved as he fought to get out. Oliver was pretty sure he did some serious damage to the door before they managed to get it closed behind him, but they _did_ get it closed, so there wasn’t any real satisfaction in it.  Not when Felicity was on the other side.

He didn’t even have time to sit up before they were moving, driving over a rocky path, the ride rough.  There were no windows.  Just the dark interior.  Oliver ran his hands over every inch of the walls, looking for any seam, any give, any possible means to kick his way free. 

But Oliver was only in there ten, maybe fifteen, minutes before they came to an abrupt stop and he had to brace himself to keep from slamming against the wall.

Then the door opened and he was yanked out by two Brians.  But before Oliver could even get a good struggle going they let him go and backed away.

Oliver’s blinked as his eyes readjusted to the bright sunlight after the pitch blackness…God, he hoped Felicity hadn’t been thrown in the dark like that…and looked around, trying to get his bearings.  They were in the middle of the forest, not tropical.  The trees were pine and maple.  There were no signs of buildings anywhere.  The only sign of civilization of any form was the very primitive dirt road that the four by four had driven up.

“What the…?” Oliver started to mutter, then clenched his teeth, growling.  “ _Where_ is Felicity?  I swear, I’ll tear _all_ of you limb from limb if you touch one hair on her—”

Bobby stepped forward, his hand up.  “This is the next part of your training, Mr. Oliver.”

The fuck it was!  “ _Where_ is Felicity?!”

“That is what you must find out.”  This Bobby was somber, very unlike the smiling boy they were used to.  He pointed to the forest.  “Your mate is out there.  Your Challenge is to find her.”

Panic spiked.  “What the _hell_ are you talking about?”  But already Oliver was scanning the forest, looking for signs, clues.

Bobby smiled then, transforming back into the boy Oliver knew and sending chills up his spine.  With a cheerful, “Good luck,” Bobby returned to the truck.

Oliver received one more hard shove from a Brian and, by the time he regained his footing, they were all in the truck, driving off.

Leaving Oliver alone in the middle of the fucking forest.  Alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> So, I know this seems like a mean place to leave a chapter when the next one won’t be out until after Christmas, but…I don’t know if I have a ‘but’, except to say as an author it felt like a great time for a short hiatus because the end of this chapter kicks off a whole new storyline.  Chapters 15 and 16 are written, I’m just crazy behind in editing and ridiculously busy with RL.
> 
> More importantly, though, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! For the outpouring of support I got on the last chapter.   I was prepared for lash back over my author’s note, but was stunned by all the love and encouragement I received instead.  It’s amazing how wonderful this fandom really is!
> 
> I also didn’t expect such a positive response to a fight scene. It’s really inspired me to write the fight that _should_ have happened (IMHO) at the end of 4X15.  Which I plan to do as soon as I catch up…  Any time now.
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful team of **Ireland1733 and** **Fairytalehearts!** And to everyone who helped me get to 1000 kudos.  Also, I started working on responding to comments, still really behind, so thank you for being patient with me.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Emmy
> 
> http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/


	15. The Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise?! Okay, so…I wanted to post after Thanksgiving, but then my AKOI muse went into hibernation (which it still totally is) so I figured I’d post in the new year. But, miraculously, I do have 15 and 16 done and, after last night, posting just seems like the right thing to do. (Not that my little story will make a significant difference to the fandom, but since I’m incapable to throwing together an awesome post episode piece in less than 24 hours like some incredibly talented writers I know…hopefully, this will cheer someone up. :-)

Felicity woke before dawn.  It was a rare treat to wake before Oliver.  To be able to lay in his arms.  To look out at the sunrise from their bed, his arm heavy around her waist, his breath warm against her neck, his stubble comforting and strangely soft.

She had a feeling it was going to be a good day.  Felicity’s body was still humming from the night before.  Oliver was an incredibly generous lover.  It was no wonder that women lined up around the block.  Apparently, it wasn’t _just_ because of his good looks. 

Well, too bad for them.  The woman of Starling, of the world, could go into mourning, because that was all over now.  Oliver Queen was _all_ hers.  And sex with this amazing beast of a man had replaced the Internet as Felicity’s favorite thing.  She almost didn’t miss Wi-Fi.  Almost.

Though, she _had_ finally been able to use a computer this week, so that may be placating her just a bit.  It was like coming home, getting her hands on the keyboard again.  Even if Felicity was running through puzzles and simulations. 

But she wasn’t _just_ playing computer games.  Felicity was close to being able to slip into their networks unnoticed.  She could _feel_ it.  There were times when she was performing the tests that a part of her mind split off and she could just _see_ the code in her mind’s eye…the loopholes becoming clearer and clearer.  It must be a part of her “enhancements” because she’d never felt anything like it before.

Maybe today would be the day she would be able to slip into their servers.  It felt like a special day.  Then…the whole island would be open to her.  Once she hacked in, she would be able to see their schematics, control the doors, the information…or maybe she could get on the web and send a distress call.  One, or both, options felt so close Felicity could taste it. 

Then Amy came tip-toeing into the room to whisper, “Miss Felicity, Mr. Oliver, wake up.  It's a special day.”

So, _clearly_ , Felicity had been right.  She almost gigged to hear her thoughts echoed back at her.  Special, indeed.  She felt a burst of excitement even as she felt Oliver tense behind her, having woken with the girl’s light footsteps.

And… _already_ Felicity could tell that Oliver didn’t feel nearly as optimistic as she did.  It seemed odd that she was so confident, like she was having a premonition.  They were so often on the same page, but today she could feel trepidation coming off of Oliver in waves, in direct opposition to her cheerful thoughts.

Oliver cleared his sleep roughened throat and pulled the comforter more fully around Felicity’s naked form.  It was both entertaining and endearing given all Amy had seen.  Not to mention, the girl’s complete lack of modesty.    

“What are we doing, Amy?” Oliver was able to keep his voice pleasant and without a trace of the hostility Felicity was certain he was feeling.  He was getting better at this, the pretending.  Felicity could tell how he really felt by the way his arms tensed and pulled her closer, his hand fisting against her belly as he spoke.

“You’ll see,” Amy sang happily. 

If they ever got out of here, Felicity was going to get Amy a job as an elf at Christmastime.  And make sure Oliver never went anywhere near the mall.

That fist against her abdomen dug uncomfortably under her rib cage in response to that non-answer and Felicity ran her nails along his forearm in an attempt to soothe him, but neither of them argued with Amy.  There was no getting past _that_ tone.  They had learned when to push and when to let it be.

Besides, the girl was already leaving, calling out behind her, “I left food and clothing.  I’ll be back in half an hour to escort you.”  Then there was the telltale _swoosh_ of the door and Amy was gone.

Immediately, Oliver’s whole body relaxed.  His hand released, his open palm falling to Felicity’s belly.  Nuzzling into her from behind, he pulled her closer and burrowed his face into her hair.  She could feel his morning erection jerk as his hands started to wander.  But as enticing as this really _really_ was…

Felicity turned her head, hugging his arms to her as she did, keeping them from destroying her fragile willpower as she whispered gently, “We only have thirty minutes.”

“We’ll skip the shower,” Oliver murmured, his lips running from her nape to her ear.  “Besides, _they_ can wait.”

Swallowing a giggle, Felicity pushed her ass back into his groin and relished the moan that vibrated against her neck.  See, this is what happened to her willpower whenever Oliver was involved.  “You’re assuming that they _will_ wait.”

“Don’t care.” Then Oliver began tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue, making her shiver.  Will power, smillpower.  Who needed willpower?  She didn’t _have_ to brush her teeth.  If Oliver didn’t mind her breath, then…

 

“You’d think a man that came three times last night could skip a _single_ morning,” Felicity teased, even as she arched into him.  She was right.  It was going to be an _amazing_ day.  How could it not when it started off so well?

“I don’t think I can endure another ‘surprise’ without a little pick me up first.”  He was still spooning her from behind, but he cupped her cheek and stretched over her to give Felicity a sloppy, sideways kiss, all tongue and lazy lips.  She met him eagerly, because…Oliver.  She reached a hand back to grasp his perfect ass.

But Oliver pulled back just as Felicity was starting to really get into it.    He stared down at her with a mischievous little smile and shook his head.  “Nope.  A Quickie isn’t enough.”  Then, with an, Felicity was certain, exaggerated sigh, he climbed over her and out of the bed.  “We’ll have to wait until later, when we can take our time.”

Felicity was left to stare after Oliver, her mouth falling open.  Smug _bastard_!  Just when she had been ready to throw caution to the wind and…  “Ass!” she called, throwing her pillow at him.

Oliver laughed as the pillow bounced of said buns of steel and threw her a grin over his unfairly attractive shoulder.  “Good aim.”

There was pride in Oliver’s voice as he disappeared into the bathroom and it did a lot to soothe Felicity’s irritation.  But seriously… _Unfair_.  Revving her up and then denying her her Quickie was in very poor taste.

“You’re lucky I don’t have anything heavier,” she yelled behind him, but she pulled herself out of the bed and stretched.   There was no reason to stay there without Oliver. “I’m not the light weight I used to be.”  It was one of upsides to their little abduction adventure.   Felicity was afraid to admit, even to herself, just how many upsides there were.

Oliver emerged from the bathroom just as Felicity was stretching her arms over her head.  It was incredibly gratifying to see her nakedness still made Oliver’s eyes darken.  And that there were parts of his anatomy that hadn’t recovered as quickly from his teasing on the bed. 

“Light enough.”  Oliver made a move to grab her again, but Felicity held up her hands, a self-satisfied smile curving her lips.  “Nuh uh.  You said we had to wait, now we have to wait.”

With another dramatic sigh…well, what counted for Oliver as a dramatic sigh…he disappeared back into the bathroom and Felicity could hear the telltale sound of the electric razor being turned on.  It also signaled playtime being officially over, so…Felicity padded over to the sofa where Amy usually laid out all their clothing.

And squealed.

Immediately, Oliver came dashing from the bathroom, his beard half trimmed, the shaver held up like a weapon.  “What happened!?”  His eyes darted around the room, looking for a threat.

Felicity wanted to point out that there was a clear difference between a scared yell and a happy squeal, but, for now, she just held up her prize with unadulterated glee, presenting them to Oliver and bouncing up and down.  “We got _shoes_!”

Oliver, the killjoy, just stared at her blankly, as if to say Felicity was completely nuts.

“Like running shoes.  And socks.  And underwear.  Even for _you_!”  Felicity squealed again, not caring if she sounded silly, because…   “You know what this means, don’t you?”

But again, Oliver just frowned and shook his head as if he had no idea why Felicity would react like this.  “They finally realized that we shouldn’t be running on the treadmill with bare feet?”

“ _Noooo_.” Felicity couldn’t resist an eyeroll.  Oliver was being purposely obtuse, she knew it. “We’re going outside, silly!  Into the _actual_ sunshine.”  God, the sun on her face…fresh air…she couldn’t wait.

But instead of looking appropriately excited, Oliver’s frown just deepened and his eyes found the window.  Lord, this man could brood about _anything_.  Seriously?  Did he _want_ to stay locked up inside?

Going over to him…Felicity might have skipped, she wasn’t gonna lie…she slid her hands up Oliver’s chest until they rested on his shoulders, sneakers dangling from her fingertips.  “Hey.  Stop.  This is a good thing.”  When he didn’t relax, she wrapped her arms around his waist, her chin resting between his perfect pecs as she looked up at him.  “There are all sorts of things we can learn out there,” she whispered, unable to stop smiling.

Oliver returned Felicity’s embrace her but his eyes stayed fixed out the window.  Was he already looking for threats? 

“Yup.  We have _no idea_ what’s out there,” Oliver muttered.

So…apparently, _yes_ , he _was_ already searching for threats. Ugh.  

And finally, Felicity frowned.  She pinched Oliver’s butt to get his attention, making his eyes widen and jerk to hers.  Hopping to her toes she murmured in the general direction of his ear, ‘cause he was _tall_ Goddammit, “I bet sex in the forest would cheer you up.  I’m pretty sure you promised me sex in the forest.” 

And given Oliver’s scent, which had never fully faded after their Heat was over, Felicity was pretty sure the smell of fresh pine and clean air was going to be quite the aphrodisiac for her.  She shivered in anticipation.  Could.  Not. Wait.

Oliver finally cracked a smile, but all he said was, “Just stay close, okay?” 

“Always.” 

Felicity pressed a kiss to the center of his chest and, regretfully, turned back to their clothing and their breakfast.  Didn’t want Oliver to walk around with his beard half-trimmed all day.  It would be hard to keep a straight face.

It was probably a good thing that they had decided against the early morning ‘pick me up’.  They barely had time to eat, get dressed, and freshen up before Amy came back with a Brian in tow.  Felicity paused in the middle of brushing her hair to quickly tie it up in a low ponytail with the lace ribbon she was given. 

Oliver held Felicity’s hand in a death grip the entire time as they left the room.  If he thought he was playing this off as being relaxed and eager for the next adventure, he was wrong.

They were taken to what must have been the basement floor of the facility.  At the end of the hallway…actually, it looked much more like an enormous stone tunnel than a hallway, but at least it wasn’t white…there was a huge steel door that seemed to be built right into the rock wall.  There were more clones guarding the door and Bobby pulled out two green bracelets…again, not white, so yay.

“These will serve to monitor your health and heart rate,” Bobby explained, waiting expectantly for them to present their wrists.

When Oliver didn’t move, Felicity held out the hand she had linked to his, effectively giving Bobby both wrists.  She was eager to get through that door and didn’t trust Oliver not to make things difficult, not with fear and suspicion radiating off of him the way it was.

“And they tell you our location,” Oliver commented dryly, one eyebrow raised.  Well, at least he didn’t growl.  He looked like he wanted to growl.

“Of course.”

As soon as the bracelets hit their skin, they molded themselves around their writs, fitting tightly and latching together so quickly Felicity couldn’t get a good look at the latching device.  They weren’t getting these things off any time soon.

“But mostly,” Amy chirped from beside them, perhaps trying to break the tension, “we are just making sure you are safe and well for as long as you are on the outside.”

And, while Felicity fully realized that they were being placated by a small child, she almost clapped she felt so happy.  They were going _outside_.  Into a world that wasn’t _white_ , but blue and green and brown and _alive_.  And she couldn’t fracking wait.

Felicity barely registered Oliver’s fingers tapping against her palm as the door opened, she was too busy drinking it all in.  For someone who lived her life in a dim room behind a computer screen, she couldn’t believe how much she had missed the great outdoors.  She promised herself that she would never take it for granted again.

Immediately, Felicity was hit with the smell of pine and wood and summer.  She wanted to race outside and spin.  Run her fingers through the grass and feel the dirt between her toes.

But the clones were really not cooperating with her need for a _Sound of Music_ moment.  They were even worse than Oliver, the spoilsports.  Felicity bit her lip and reminded herself that the more cooperative they were, the sooner they were likely be allowed to roam free.

There was a wall of Brians blocking Felicity from where she wanted to be, which _kinda_ dimmed her enthusiasm a bit.  And it did nothing to calm Oliver. 

Was all this really necessary?  Couldn’t they let the poor man enjoy his first taste of the outdoors in _months_?  It wasn’t like they were going anywhere.  They couldn’t exactly swim off the damn island.

Soon, Felicity told herself, squeezing Oliver’s hand and trying to send him some of her optimism.  _Soon_ all the clones would go away and it would just be them.  Just like the couple on the beach.  It would be heaven.  All they had to do was endure a few lectures and a little intimid—

It all happened so fast.

Felicity turned to ask Amy what happened next, but before she could even speak, Oliver was being torn away from her.  Bodily, _violently_ torn from her grasp.  She held on to him as tightly as she could.  It was a reflex, to tense her grip, but it was no match for the three Brians that surrounded Oliver, yanking him back and away. 

“ _Oliver_!”

The second his fingers left hers, all those good feelings she had been harboring disappeared in a poof.  Panic was looming, but for now, all they could do was fight.  And Felicity knew, could _see_ how hard Oliver was fighting to get back to her. 

But four more Brians stepped up and created a wall between them.  That was when Felicity’s anxiety really started to spike.  She went still, her brain taking over, assessing the situation, scenarios and consequences running through her brain at a frightening speed.

“Get the fuck off!  Fucking…bastards!” Oliver growled.

Tears sprang to her eyes, instinct interrupted her processing mind, and Felicity settled on one, farfetched, but at least _possible_ , plan.   Frantically, she looked around for a weapon, if she could get Oliver something… _anything_ while they were still focused on him then—

But Amy’s hand slipped into hers and gave it a gentle pull.  “Don’t call out for him, Miss Felicity.  If Mr. Oliver sees you upset or struggling, he will just fight harder.  Then he will get hurt.”

The truth of Amy’s words hit Felicity hard, in the chest.  That had been one of the trains her thoughts had been circling around her brain in and she did _not_ like where that track led.   

“No one needs to get hurt, Miss Felicity.”

Was that a promise or a threat?  Felicity had to cover her mouth to stifle a sob as she watched even more Brians surround her mate, watched Oliver struggle to get to her.  It was physically painful not to fight to get to him, even if all her calculations told her it would do her no good.  That in all likelihood it would make things worse.

“Where’re you taking him?” Felicity whimpered, feeling trapped as tears started to spill over.  But she had to stay calm.  For Oliver’s sake.

Amy stroked her hand as she held it.  Her touch made Felicity’s skin crawl.  “Not far.  Mr. Oliver won’t be hurt.   Just come with me and you will be back together soon.” 

Felicity had no choice but to believe her, to trust her gut when it told her that Amy had never lied to her.  Her brain had no idea if that was valid or not, but her gut was all she had right then.

Amy pulled Felicity’s limp body backwards and, even realizing it was their best chance, it was _so_ _hard_ to leave Oliver with those monsters surrounding him.

Felicity’s eyes locked with his and she saw the desperation, saw his _need_ to get to her double and the struggle quadrupole.  She wanted to call out to Oliver to _stop_.  That it would be okay, even though she had no idea if it would.  Not really.  All she had was Amy’s word and her irrational trust in this strange child.  But, then, Felicity’s throat closed and she couldn’t get any words out anyway.

“ _Felicity_!  Don’t you fucking touch her!  I swear to God...”

“ _Please_ , Miss Felicity.  Get in the truck.  It will make it easier on him,” Amy pleaded.

Felicity had only a split second to make the decision.  To decide to trust Amy and go with her.  To realize that there wasn’t any other viable play anyway.  Tears rolling down her face, she tore he eyes away from the sight of a dozen goons shoving Oliver into the back of another, larger truck, and followed Amy, trying her best to block out the agonizing sounds of a struggle as she slid into the backseat.

The windows of the SUV were blacked out on the sides and back, only the windshield was clear and that was blocked by the hulking mass of three Brians in the front seat.  How many fracking Brians did they have on this island?

Felicity’s heart rate picked up.  She had made the wrong choice.  She should have found a way to stay with Oliver, to fight _with_ him.  Maybe together they could have…

The door to the truck was slammed shut and locked behind her and before Felicity could even process _that_ the truck lurched forward.

“Why are you doing this?” Felicity sounded weepy and distraught and she wasn’t sure if that was how she wanted to come off or not. 

But she didn’t know _how_ she wanted to be perceived.  They had taken her off guard and Felicity had no idea what to do next. This was not something they had planned for and the separation from Oliver was like a physical pain in her chest. 

“We are sorry, Miss Felicity,” Amy said and she really _did_ seem like she meant it.  “If we warn mates that they are going to be separated, it goes far worse.  Alphas can get…quite antagonistic.”

Felicity almost laughed.  Antagonistic, indeed.  Homicidal, more like.  The scary part was that she found herself wishing Oliver had snapped their necks.  The whole lot of them.

“Why separate us at all?” Felicity wiped desperately at her eyes.  She had to pull herself together.  Figure this out.  Get back to Oliver.  Maybe this was just another test, a game.  If she could just clear her head, she could figure out what they wanted.  Figure out how to solve this puzzle so she could _get Oliver back_. 

“It’s the next part of the training,” Amy whispered, hesitantly, as if she _knew_ how well that was going to go over.

And even though it was exactly what Felicity had just been thinking, the way Amy said it…it sank in and…separate? 

“You are going to train us _separately_?” 

Felicity grabbed onto the side of the truck to keep from flying out of her seat as it went far too fast over a large bump in the rocky terrain and wondered if there was any benefit to throwing herself out of the truck.  Because what if this wasn’t _one_ test?  What if the whole next _stage_ was to kept them apart?

Terrifying scenarios flew through Felicity’s head at a rapid pace, each worse than the last.  She imagined them spending days apart…being housed separately…what if they didn’t let them see each other at all?  For how long?  She didn’t want to be on this fracking island without Oliver!  Didn’t even know how she could handle a long separation.  And Oliver…he would go insane!

Felicity couldn’t breathe.  She was sweating.  Her skin crawling.  Already, she needed Oliver’s touch to calm her down.  She needed…

But what she got was _Amy’s_ hand on her arm and that just made the feeling worse.  Because it _wasn’t_ Oliver. 

But the girl mustn’t have realized because she grabbed Felicity’s hands, pleading, “Breathe, Miss Felicity. _Breathe_.  It’s only for a short while.  You will be back in your chamber in time for lunch no matter what.  Breathe, _please_.”

“Together?” Felicity demanded, not caring if she sounded like a lunatic.  “I’ll be back with _Oliver_!?”  Because that was all that mattered.

Amy nodded frantically.  “Yes.  Yes.  Of course.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Felicity was shocked at herself for asking the question.  It was far too confrontational.  Not at all the game they were trying to play.

Amy opened her eyes wide, looking just as shocked, like she had been struck.  Or…like she didn’t know how to respond, like that day in the White Room. 

“I…I don’t know how to lie, Miss Felicity.  Amys can’t do that.”

And for whatever reason, maybe because Felicity felt like she was drowning and this was something to hold onto, she believed that was true.  She gripped Amy’s hands back and managed to ask, “ _What_ is going on here?” Maybe it was pushing her luck, but this was just too much.

“We’re just bringing you both to different parts of the island to hone your skills.”

“ _What_ skills?!” Felicity all but yelled, her hands clenching and then springing back when she realized she must be hurting the child.

Amy jerked back at the vehemence of Felicity’s reaction, her eyes wide.  “Miss Felicity…I…you and Mr. Oliver should be able to sense one another over long distances.  We can’t test that if we never separate you.”

And…Felicity could do nothing but blink.  “What?  We can… _what_?”

Amy smiled, her shoulders relaxing with a sigh.  “You can _sense_ one another.  Through your connection.  We’re going to drop you off on one part of the island and Mr. Oliver on another…not too far apart the first time.  No need to worry about that.”

First time?  Frack!  Was this to be the new normal?

“Your goal is simply to find each other.  I really don’t anticipate it taking very long.”  Amy gave Felicity a knowing look…possibly the most _knowing look_ her innocent eyes had ever given.  “And considering Mr. Oliver…I’m very certain he will find you remarkably quickly.  We’re very excited, actually.  There are bets that he will be breaking a number of records.  You probably don’t have to do anything, Miss Felicity.  Though, we do recommend that you work on your skills as well and try to locate him.  You’ll never get better if you don’t practice.”

Felicity stared at the girl, slack jawed and dazed.  It was one thing to be Soulmates, but…what Amy was suggesting was a _psychic_ connection.  Which was absurd, yet…

This last week Felicity had thought she was reading Oliver’s emotions so well…was she actually _feeling_ them?  No…that couldn’t be…if that were true, they probably would have had far fewer misunderstandings.  Right?

Taking a deep breath, Felicity closed her eyes and focused as much mental energy as she could gather on Oliver.  It was worth at least _trying_ to see if she could sense him.  It would go a long way to calm her nerves.  Who was she kidding?  It would be a fracking miracle.

When she thought of Oliver, Felicity felt panic and rage.  But was that coming from herself or from Oliver on the other side of the island?  And the desperation, was that hers alone?  Was it intuition or some other sense?  It _did_ feel like they were moving further away from each other.  Like there was something in her chest that was getting pulled tighter and tighter.  It was awful.

The truck came to an abrupt stop.

“We’re here,” Amy chirped, completely unnecessarily.  Felicity wondered if the irritation it sparked was hers alone or Oliver influenced.  Probably hers alone.

Felicity followed the girl from the dark truck…there was no part of her that didn’t want _out_ …and felt the same rush of fresh air and sunshine she experienced before, but while she experienced relief, the happiness she felt the first time she had stepped outside was completely absent without Oliver by her side.

Amy led Felicity to a small meadow that was surrounded on all sides by forest.  Besides the grass and wildflowers at her feet, there was nothing to see but trees.  It would have been a beautiful place for a picnic.  If Oliver were here. 

That thought brought a burn to her eyes and an itch to her throat.  Felicity couldn’t believe how wrong she had been when it came to how this day would go.  When would she learn to trust Oliver’s intuition?

“Okay, Miss Felicity...” Amy reached for her hands.  Felicity took a deep breath and forced herself to give them to her, to look into the child’s dark eyes, reminding herself Amy was not the villain here.  _She_ hadn’t taken Oliver away from her.  And, besides, Felicity needed the girl to find him again and she’d do whatever it took.

“Close your eyes and think of Mr. Oliver.  Try to center yourself and _feel_ for him.  Follow your instincts and _the Pull_ and all will be well.”

Felicity did as she was told.  What choice did she have?  Anything to get back to Oliver as quickly as possible.  She breathed in the smell of the woods, felt the sun on her nose and the breeze on her cheeks.  The smell of pine and oak and forest…all of it reminded her of Oliver.

As Felicity concentrated on him, her hands fell limply to her sides.  She felt rage and anxiety, but also…determination.  It calmed her.  Oliver was looking for her.  And while, _of cours_ e, intellectually, she knew Oliver was looking for her…this was a different level of knowing.  Like she _felt_ him looking…and she _knew_ he would find her. 

By some miracle, her anxiety faded until it was almost entirely gone.  She could _feel_ him.  She _knew_ he was coming for her.  There was no longer a doubt in Felicity’s mind that he would find her.  She felt that Pull again, deep in her chest, as if a string was attached from her to Oliver and he was pulling her to him, but...

Felicity couldn’t tell what direction it was pulling her in. 

Seriously?  Of all the times for her terrible sense of direction to pop up! 

Felicity couldn’t find her way out of a paper bag without GPS.  Which was _why_ it was such a good thing that she could hack any GPS system in the world.  As long as she had some sort of device.  Which she didn’t.  Fracken wilderness.  Why had she wanted to come outside again?

“Amy, how do you…?” 

Felicity’s eyes snapped open to the sound of a motor starting.  Double frack!  She turned just in time to see the truck disappear back into the forest.

“ _Great_ ,” Felicity muttered. “Just great.”  Looked like she was going to have to rely on stupid psychic GPS after all.

She tried again, closing her eyes and concentrating on _the_ _Pull_.  Felicity moved in a circle, trying to get some clue as to which direction it was coming from.  But even though the Pull was strong, it felt like….

It felt like Oliver was all around her.  Everywhere, almost.  Maybe it was the smell…

Or _maybe_ , Felicity was just terrible at this.  Opening her eyes once again, she stared after the truck and pressed the palms of her hands to temples. 

She was alone. 

 _Crap_. 

Now what?

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

 

 

Oliver’s first instinct was to run after the truck.  And he did.

If he could jump up onto the roof of that four by four…he grabbed the largest stick he could find as he ran…Oliver could bash in the window with the branch.  He’d happily snap the neck of every Brian in there, knock out the kid…then he could take the truck, find Felicity, maybe a radio…then they could find a way to get a message home, or to ARGUS and then…

Felicity would be able to get these damn trackers off.  Of course, she could.  She was Felicity. 

But there was no way Oliver was going to be able to overtake that truck.  He may be faster than an Olympic gold medalist, but he was still human.  Mostly.  And those assholes were driving that four-wheel drive like a bat out of hell.  It practically flew over the dirt road, quickly out distancing him. 

So, apparently, Oliver didn’t have _actual_ Super Speed and that truck was _fast_ for this rough terrain.  When it was clear that there was no way he was going to catch it, Oliver stopped and hurled the club sized branch at the truck with all his strength.  It was satisfying to hear the crack of the window glass.  For a moment, anyway. 

For all the fucking good it did him.  The truck sped away and Oliver was stuck alone in the middle of the goddamn wilderness with Felicity God knows where, undergoing God knows what.

If Felicity got so much as a scratch on her, someone was going to die today.  So help him.  Oliver’s no killing vow did not extend to people who touched his girl.

The vow probably didn’t apply to Brians in general.  _Surely_ , they didn’t count as human.

Lungs burning, Oliver looked around, taking in the landscape.  It was a temperate forest.  Pine trees, maple, oak, ash.  There were birds.  Sparrows, he thought.  Squirrels.  There weren’t any signs of any other wildlife, but in a climate like this there could be bears, mountain lions, wolves…

 _Fuck_!  Had they left Felicity in the middle of nowhere?  She had no idea how to survive in a place like this!  How long was this Goddamnable “challenge” supposed to last?  Would they leave them out here _overnight_? 

There was no way in _hell_ Oliver was letting Felicity stay alone in the forest past dark.  No _fucking_ way.

Of course, this could all be a sick and elaborate test, where they placed Felicity in danger and made Oliver try to save her, like something out of a 1950’s adventure magazine.  He was picturing a chair suspended over a pit of man-eating sharks and while he knew that was ridiculous…

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and resisted the urge to roar his frustration at the top of his lungs.

But all the damn ‘what if’s in the world weren’t going to get Felicity back.  Oliver needed a plan.  He looked around and zeroed in on an old oak tree, maybe 30 feet tall.  With a running leap, he caught a lower branch easily and hoisted himself up.  His new abilities made the climb a piece of cake.  It’s didn’t take him long to hoist himself to an upper limb.

And, as Oliver had hoped, it was one of the taller trees in this forest, giving him an excellent panorama of the island.  Well, of half of it anyway.  There was an enormous mountain cutting the Island in two, which Oliver couldn’t see beyond.  He just prayed to God _this_ was the half Felicity was on.

To the East, there was a sea of trees that started to climb sharper and shaper, until they disappeared into the rock wall of the mountainside. Oliver could see windows…a structure built into the side of the mountain.  That must be where they were kept.  One of the hundreds of windows undoubtedly belonged to their White Room.  But how many others led to even more captives?

There was no way to see beyond the mountain fortress or to even judge how much island lie in that direction.  But to the South, the trees abruptly ended in ocean.  Cliffs, if Oliver had to guess.  The tree line curved inland tapering off to a rocky hill, then merging with the sand, leveling out and flattening, forming a wide beach that surrounded the Westside of the island and reaching North where it tapered and, once again, the trees met the ocean.

His new vision was an enhancement Oliver could definitely come to appreciate.  But, still, he couldn’t see Felicity.  Or anyone for that matter.  No people.  No trucks.  Just wilderness, beach, and ocean.  He _could_ see a distant family of dolphins off the coast.  As if _that_ did him any good.  It may have even made him miss Felicity more, if such a thing were possible.  She’d appreciate the sight more than he ever could.

Oliver took a deep breath and allowed his body to collapse against the trunk of the tree, his eyes closing.  What the _fuck_ was he supposed to do now?  This had been it.  His only plan.

Felicity.  He need Felicity…

He caught a whiff of vanilla and cinnamon on wind… Felicity’s scent…and Oliver felt a tug in the center of his chest.  On instinct, he turned his head, his eyes finding the place where the cliffs met the beach.

Something told him that Felicity was in that direction.  Some sensation.  Some _Pull_.  But that made no sense.  It had to be wishful thinking.  Didn’t it?  Oliver had absolutely nothing to go by besides the smell of vanilla and a sensation in the middle of his chest.

Yet the longer Oliver stared in that direction, the more he was convinced he needed to go Southwest.

Plus, that beach was where they had spotted the mysterious red-head and her…boyfriend…mate…whatever.  But if Oliver knew Felicity, and he did, she would take any chance she could to talk to the mystery woman.  So, if Felicity could find the beach, that was where she would go.

Oliver grabbed a branch and started to swing down from the tree, determination filling him.  He had to get to that beach.

 

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

 

 

When all else fails, follow the yellow brick road.  Or _any_ road you can find, in absence of a yellow one.  Right?

Well, since she couldn’t come up with a better plan, this was direction Felicity took.  The well-worn path, while less exciting, was bound to be safer.  Someone had told her that once, though she couldn’t remember who.

Felicity had totally failed at sensing which direction Oliver was in, which kind of made her feel like a failure as a Soulmate.  She always fancied herself quite intuitive.  Empathetic.  High emotional IQ and all that.  Certainly, much better at that sort of thing than the average genius.  The MIT social scene had taught her that.

But when put to the test, not only was Felicity unable to locate Oliver through their supposed psychic connection thingy, she hadn’t been doing too great a job sensing her mate’s needs and emotions either.  And now that she knew that she was supposed to have _super empathy,_ or whatever, she felt even worse for missing his insecurities.

Oliver was better at it than she was.  Wasn’t that ironic?  _Oliver Queen_ was a more empathetic mate than Felicity was.  Laurel Lance would laugh her head off.  And everybody else they knew for that matter. 

But it was true.  Oliver always seemed to know what to say or do to make Felicity feel better, feel secure.  It really sucked being out here without him.

Though, at this point, Oliver had _better_ be better than Felicity at this locating each other thing or they were both kinda doomed. 

So, as hopeless as she was, Felicity just followed the road that the SUV had disappeared down, hoping it would bring her… _someplace_.  Someplace, Oliver could find.

The thing was, as depressing as it was that she was failing this challenge, Felicity really wasn’t worried.  She kinda sorta _knew_ that Oliver was going to find her.   So while fear was nonexistent, it still left her feeling a bit lost and helpless.  No, not helpless…that was the wrong word… _useless_.  Yes, that was it. 

She wasn’t scared.  Her faith in Oliver and his abilities was absolute, but waiting for him to find her…way too damsel in distress for Felicity’s taste.

She would far rather play the sidekick to the ingénue any day.  Though, partner was Felicity’s preference and, at the moment, she really didn’t feel like she was carrying her weight.  She wanted to be doing something other than wandering down a dirt road and wishing that Oliver was with her. 

This road that would probably take Felicity back to base.  After all that time staring out that window, wishing herself out _here_ , the first chance she got and she walked _back_ to their prison.  Maybe she _was_ developing Stockholm Syndrome. 

The least Felicity could do was enjoy a nice hike on a summer morning…

And… _frack_.  A fork in the road.

Of _course_ , there was a fork in the road.  Because her life just _had_ to become the literal representation of a metaphor.  _Now_ what?

Hands on her hips, Felicity stared at the two roads.  They were both equally likely to lead her back to base, both equally well worn, so Robert Frost was not going to do her much good. 

Both roads had tire tracks, but there was no way for Felicity to tell which one had been more recently traveled on.  No doubt Oliver would have been able to easily, but without a computer…or at least a hand held electronic device, _she_ was useless.  Nothing could make a tech nerd feel more insignificant then being stranded out in the wilderness with the most modern thing at her disposal the sneakers on her feet.

And thank God for those B.T.W.  Oliver might be able to handle this barefoot, but… _oww_!  The rocks and the splinters…

Okay, _focus,_ Felicity.  Time to figure out what to do next.    She absolutely refused to sit down on the ground and wait for Oliver to show up.  Though, she did considered it.  Oh, yes, she did.

So…which way?

There was no clue.  At least none that Felicity could discern.  She let out a sigh.  Maybe it was time to stop trying to use her intellect and try to use her intuition.  She closed her eyes and tried to do what Amy had taught her to.  She took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind and…felt really _really_ foolish.

Also, turning off Felicity’s brain was a little like trying to stop the bullet train.

Crap.  Okay.  Deep breaths.  In and out.  Just like that stupid grade school counselor tried to teach her after her father left.  What had she said?  Blue goes out…or did the blue go in…ugh ugh ugh…this was so _stupid_!

And ridiculous.  Alright.  One last try. 

This time, Felicity stopped worrying about breaths and colors and, instead, she pictured Oliver.  She focused on his face.  The mole at the corner of his mouth.  His short stubble.  How it was more than one color and reddish in the sunlight.  How it was softer than it looked.  She remembered the feel of it against her fingers, against her neck.

Felicity thought about his scent.  So similar to the way this forest smelled.  It was calming, being surrounded by the smell of pine and wood.  It was a little like she was surrounded by Oliver.

That thought allowed Felicity to smile.  Tension she hadn’t known was there started to flow out of her.  She focused on the timber of Oliver’s voice.  The special tone he used just for her, soft and affectionate, but with a deep husky masculine undertone.

Before she knew what she was doing, Felicity was stepping forward, barely realizing she had moved until she stumbled on a tree root.  Only her new and improved reflexes kept her from falling flat on her face.  She opened her eyes to find that she had started down the path to right, but had stepped off the road and moved several yards into the woods.

She closed her eyes again and focused on that Pull.  _Yes_.  Oliver was this way.  Through the forest.  Felicity could feel it. 

And, of _course_ , it was off the path.  That made sense, but, _dammit_ , she was far from an experienced outdoorswoman.  Felicity closed her eyes one more time.  Better be sure before getting herself lost in the woods. 

And she heard…

Felicity’s eyes snapped back open.  Because she heard singing.  She turned her head.  Yes, singing…a _woman_ singing.

Before Felicity could stop to think about what she was doing, she was walking out of the woods.  She found herself on the other path, the one to the Left…but then the singing stopped and...

 _Great_.   Felicity froze in the middle of the road.  What was she doing?  Oliver was in the opposite direction.  When she closed her eyes, she could feel him, but she also…she smelled the ocean, _heard_ the ocean.  In the silence, she could almost make out the crash of the waves and the cries of the seagulls.

Then the singing began again.  Was that the redhead that they had been watching for the last week?

A redhead, singing wordlessly at the ocean…yup.  Felicity was going insane.  Next thing she knew she’d be seeing sea witches and talking to crabs.

But the voice kept going and it was rather beautiful.  Maybe she was singing to her mate? So he could find her easier?   It was a good idea.  Maybe Felicity should try…. _no_ , she didn’t have the voice for it.  She was better off walking through the woods screaming Oliver’s name.

Hmmmm.  Nah. 

Okay.  Now, Felicity had a choice to make, here at her _literal_ fork in the road.

Oliver was to the Right, through the thick forest if her instincts were to be believed, which they…well, let’s just pretend they were correct.

So Oliver was that way, frantically trying to get to her, Felicity was certain.  Amy said her goal was to find him, which was…frankly a check in the opposite column.  But Felicity _really_ wanted to find Oliver.  She could feel the itch under her skin protesting their physical distance.  She completely trusted _him_ to find _her_ , but she also wanted to pull her weight and meet him halfway. 

Then, at the top of column B was the path to the Left, the well-worn path that led to the mysterious woman and the ocean.  It meant someone to talk to who wasn’t one of the clones.  The possibly of new information.  The possibly of new allies.

Who knew how many captives there were on this island?  But if there were enough…and if they could band together…enough enhanced captives, working as one, surely, they would be able to overpower their captors and get home.

So find the ginger haired woman?  Or find Oliver?

Though, wouldn’t Oliver be able to find Felicity easier on the open expanse of the beach than in this maze of a forest?  And when would they have an opportunity like this again? 

This wasn’t sitting and waiting for Oliver to find her.  It was working to find their way home, in her own way.  Still, Felicity was reluctant to move in a direction that was opposite of Oliver.  The Pull into the woods was strong.

But this was how they worked.  They were partners.  Felicity gathered information and, in the absence of technology, she would have to find another way.  And trust Oliver to find _her_.  Which she did.  Implicitly.

Felicity took the trail to the Left.

And the beach, it was much closer than she realized.  Felicity barely had time to work up a good worry over possibly making the wrong choice before she emerged from the trees and saw the expanse of bright sand. 

In actuality, she wasn’t sure she could believe it.  The sun over the blue of the water and the endless sky…it was so beautiful that Felicity almost laughed out loud.  She had been staring at this scene for weeks, willing herself here, not sure if it would ever happen.  And here she was.

Of course, Felicity had never imagined being here without Oliver.  But that was okay, because he was going to be there soon.  He was _coming_... she knew it in her bones.

Felicity wasn’t quite on the beach yet.  She was standing on a mass of enormous rocks that gradually tapered off to the sand to her Right.  To her Left, the rocks climbed upward before shaping into high cliffs.

But to the Right…Felicity carefully made her way down the rocks toward the beach, finding it much easier to balance than she ever had before.

The singing began again and Felicity jumped the last bit, her shoes sinking into the soft sand.  The beach continued in front of the cliffs before disappearing into the ocean and there, a hundred feet ahead of her, was the ginger-haired woman.  The water must be shallow, because the woman stood quite a distance from shore and she was only to her knees in the waves.  It might also be low tide…not that Felicity knew a lot about such things.

The redhead’s white dress was very similar to Felicity’s and she was singing…not wordlessly as Felicity had first thought, but in a language she didn’t recognize.

It was as if the woman were singing for the mermaids and sea creatures to come and rescue her.  Maybe _she_ had seen _the Little Mermaid_ once too often.  Or maybe the treatments had made her insane.  Felicity shuddered at the thought. 

Though, maybe the woman was just sad. Her music certainly had a melancholy lilt to it.

Felicity started to walk toward her, just about to call out—

“Lady, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

And Felicity jumped.  Full on, feet off the ground jumped.  She spun, looking for the source of the unfamiliar voice and almost falling in a heap as she tangled her feet in the sand.

And there, Felicity found another woman in a white dress.  No, a _girl_ …because she looked young, _too_ young for what they did to captives on this island.  She was sitting up in a tree at the edge of the forest, staring at Felicity with challenge in her golden eyes. 

The teenager smiled a cat-like grin.  “New here, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> If there are more mistakes than usual, I apologize, my AKOI muse fled the building and doing the last edit was painful.  Chapter 16 is ready and will be posted a week from today, but 17 will likely be next year.  18 will likely be in the Spring, but 17 leaves you in a very good place.
> 
> After that I’m changing my focus completely.  I wanted to go back to _To Sacrifice the Sun_ , but since the Crossovers I’ve been crazy inspired to work in Season 5.  Right now, I’m working on a post Of Redemption and Inebriation series called _When Locksley Meets…_   The premise is season 5 one-shots if Olicity reunited over the summer and now have a dog.  Each chapter is another person meeting the dog.  In various stages of writing/editing I have Digg, Rory, Roy, Billy, and baby Olicity.
> 
> After that…I’ve just been drowning in plot bunnies.  I’m either going to a series of Locksley fics from the crossover showing all the Olicity scenes we should have had.  _Or_ I’m going to write a ridiculously tropy and probably unoriginal sex pollen season 5 story taking place during the Christmas Party of 5x09 (nothing after the party will happen as on the show).
> 
> So, that’s my writing saga…oh, wait, nope forgot about Ifs and Maybes.  I’m hoping to have that one-shot out before Christmas.  It’s a rewrite of the end of Taken 4x15.  Angsty as frack, but, hopefully, extremely cathartic.
> 
> As always, my multitude of thanks to the two ladies who I couldn’t do this without **Ireland1733 and** **Fairytalehearts.**
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> Emmy
> 
>  


	16. The Girl in the Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  

 

 

Running through the forest on a God forsaken island…it was déjà vu all over again.

There were differences, of course.  Fairly significant ones.  For example, Oliver wasn’t running for his life this time.  Either to escape someone or training to be able to better escape someone in the future.  Trying to get faster, stronger, better.

Back then, Oliver would run until his lungs burned and his muscles ached and still he would push himself harder and harder.  It was the only thing that had ever felt good on Lian Yu.

He couldn’t get himself up to a speed where his lungs could really feel it here, though Oliver knew he was running far faster than he ever had before.  But the landscape was varied and unfamiliar and he was constantly readjusting, leaping over and darting around things.

That didn’t mean it didn’t feel good.  It felt incredible actually.  Powerful.  The way Oliver felt when his training first started to pay off, but times a hundred.

Oliver made a running jump over a wide stream and completely misjudged himself, going too far.  Yet, somehow, he easily caught himself on a thick branch and swung past an upended tree root without pausing.

And it wasn’t just increased speed, agility, strength, it was…Oliver could see every obstacle in his path.  He could see them coming 100 yards away.  He could see in multiple directions, take it all in at once…plan and shift his course instantaneously. 

All while Oliver took in the direction of the wind, while knowing that there was a woodpecker to the North.  A family of squirrels to the Left.  That the rabbit whose burrow he had just vaulted over had just narrowly avoided a fox. 

So far, there hadn’t been any signs of any larger animals.  Thank God.

Oliver could feel himself getting closer.  Closer to Felicity.  He felt it in his chest.  He knew he was going the right way, just like he knew she would be back at his side soon, with an absurd amount of clarity and confidence.

And if they were hurting her…

Oliver _knew_ he would tear them to pieces.  Literally.  It wasn’t just threat and bravado this time.  He felt it in his muscles.  He _knew_ it.

And those creepy mother-fuckers weren’t taking him off guard this time.  Oliver would find them and…he wouldn’t rush in.  He would case out his surroundings.  He would find his advantage and then… he was going to get his mate back and anyone who got in his way would wish that they hadn’t.

Though, Oliver almost wished that they would.

Because out here, he had never felt more in his element.  He remembered the peace that he’d found on Lian Yu after Tommy died.  How there had been a part of him that felt like he belonged there, living in the wilderness.  Oliver felt that now.

If they tried to hurt Felicity…Oliver would grab her and they would disappear into these woods.  He had no doubt that they could do it. 

Felicity would be able to figure out how to get the trackers off and Oliver could _easily_ live off the land here.  He already knew which plants they could eat, how to trap that rabbit.  Part of his brain was already planning how he was going to fashion a bow and arrow from the materials around him.

They could survive… _thrive_ out here.  Together.  And no longer having to live at the will of those maniacs, they would find a way home. 

Oliver wondered if the clone army had had any idea when they threw him from that truck with their little “ _challenge”_ …that they were handing him the tools he needed to destroy them.

All Oliver needed now was Felicity.  And her would get her back.  Soon.  He could _feel_ it.

_Soon_ Felicity would be back where she belonged.  With him.

Maybe this wasn’t like running on Lian Yu at all.  Because here, Oliver was running _toward_ something.

 

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

 

 

Felicity didn’t know what she expected when she finally reached the beach, but being stopped from finally talking to the red-headed woman by a girl in a tree…not a clone, not an Amy or an Ann, but someone else entirely…was not at all what she had envisioned. 

The girl in the tree…and Felicity did mean _girl_.  Well, not like Amy’s age ‘girl.’  She wasn’t a _child_.  But saying she was a woman, like an _actual_ adult _,_ seemed to be stretching matters.  She was most likely a teenager and she was…gorgeous.

She was wearing a white dress just like Felicity’s, only with less lace.  Actually, now that she really looked at it, it could be the same dress, just with the lace torn out of the neckline. The edge was sort of messy and fell haphazardly over the girl’s shoulders, but, somehow, she wore it like it was the latest style.  

She had intense green-gold eyes and a mass of caramel colored hair cascading wildly over her shoulders, cheek bones to die for.  This was someone Felicity might have been envious of, once upon a time, back when she was less confident of herself as an attractive woman, which was…well, rather recently.  Being the focus of a man like Oliver Queen’s attentions did wonders for her self-confidence, she was almost embarrassed to admit. 

Though, maybe it was more than that.  Maybe with Oliver as her Soulmate…Felicity had never felt so comfortable in her own skin.  Oliver thought she was beautiful.  What did she care what anyone else thought?  Why bother comparing herself to other women?  Wow, that was a freeing thought.

And completely off topic, since Felicity probably had limited time unsupervised on this beach and now she had two girls slash women she wanted to question.   

The girl made contact first, so…wow, she looked…sixteen?   _Maybe_ she could pass for eighteen.  Possibly.  _If_ Felicity was being generous. 

“Oh my God.  They’re taking children.”

The girl’s shoulders stiffened and squared, her jaw hardening and her eyes flashing.  “I am _not_ a child.”

And… _that_ was how Felicity realized that genetic manipulation hadn’t improved her penchant for speaking her thoughts out loud.  Oops.  Not exactly getting off on the right foot. 

“I didn’t mean—”

“Look, lady...” The girl almost snarled, pulling herself up to stand on the branch.  She looked pretty angry and, also…that branch really did _not_ look wide enough to stand on.  “I was just trying to help you out. I can go—”

“Please don’t.  I didn’t mean you insult you.”  Felicity rushed forward to reassure her and, well, catch her if she fell.  Felicity really hoped her new skills would give her the ability to break her fall, because the girl did _not_ look at all safe up there. 

Felicity was feeling increasingly concerned that this petulant teenager…and why shouldn’t she be petulant, having been kidnapped and experimented on…may have a death wish.  She wasn’t even holding on.

In fact, the girl crossed her arms, _somehow_ , managing an irate teenage slouch from ten feet off the ground.  “I haven’t been a _child_ in a long time.  And, by the way, you don’t look too ancient yourself.  It’s part of what they do to us, you know, trying to make us _perfect_.” And, boy, did this girl have that sneer down.  “Don’t you think that includes looking young forever?”

“I…” Okay, so now that she mentioned it that made total sense and…who the hell was this kid?  Now Felicity was feeling stupid for not thinking of that earlier.   Not many people could make Felicity Smoak feel stupid.  “I suppose so.” 

But Felicity really didn’t think her or Oliver looked younger…well, not _that_ much younger.  Maybe a little younger.  God, she didn’t know.  If it was gradual process it would be hard to tell, wouldn’t it?  But she was pretty sure they didn’t look like kids, not like this girl did. 

“Are you saying they are making us look like teenagers?” Felicity asked carefully, feeling thrown and not at all sure how to approach this strange girl.  Amy was easy compared to this.  Or maybe Felicity had lost all of the hard-won social skills she had during her month plus of captivity.

“How the hell should I know?” the girl snapped and Felicity found herself genuinely shocked to be faced with such surliness after weeks of…cheerful politeness.

And this girl…woman…female type person…was insinuating that she had been de-aged.  Dear _God_.  She could be older than Felicity.  A lot older.  Now, Felicity was imagining a de-aged bitter octogenarian.  “How old _are_ you?”

The girl in the tree wrinkled her nose and looked down at Felicity defiantly, barking out, “Nineteen.”

O…k… 

It took quite a lot of self-control for Felicity to keep herself from laughing out loud, because even though she wasn’t as young as Felicity had originally thought, thank God, she was hardly a de-aged phenomenon.  Her teenage appearance probably had more to do with the clothing and lack of makeup than genetic manipulation.  Oh…and the fact that she was still _actually a teenager_!

And, yeah, Felicity was going to go right back to thinking of her as the _girl_ in the tree, at least until she got a name.  Though she knew better than to push for one.  Felicity understood prickly, self-righteous teenagers, she’d been one herself not too long ago. 

“How old are _you_?” the girl demanded.

Felicity’s eyebrows flew up.  Though, it was a fair question.  Really, it was no ruder than when Felicity asked her, except she was pretty sure her tone wasn’t nearly as harsh.  “Twenty-four.”  And as she said it, Felicity blushed, because, yeah, that really wasn’t that much older now that she heard herself say it out loud.  But at least she wasn’t still an _actual_ teenager.

But, of course, little Miss Sassy Pants tilted her head to the side and rolled her eyes.  Felicity had known her for less than five minutes and could already tell there was no way this girl was letting _that_ one go. 

“That’s soooo much older and more worldly wise.  Guess, I should listen to life lessons from you then.”  Her next eye roll was a thing of beauty.  The girl shook her head. “If you led the life I…” she muttered to herself before pressing her lips tightly shut. 

And as much as Felicity wanted to ask her to speak up, she was also well aware that she was lucky the girl hadn’t disappeared at this point.

“No, it’s not that much older,” Felicity conceded.  Though, thinking about it, five years was pretty huge.  Especially when Felicity considered how much she had changed in the last five years.  And she’d been working with the Arrow since she was 22.  That aged a person fast.

“Anyway…” the girl shrugged and Felicity thought maybe she had gained a few points with her last comment because Sassy Pants’ stance uncoiled a bit.  “I _could_ be 20 by now…for all I know.  It’s not like we get a calendar.”

God, how long had she been here to not be sure of her own age?  Especially when she was still so young?  To not even know if she’d had a birthday or not… Felicity swallowed and asked, “Do you know how long you’ve been here?”

The girl just shrugged, but she climbed back into a sitting position, allowing Felicity to release the breath she hadn’t even known she was holding.  At least, now, she didn’t have to worry about the girl tumbling to her death.  As much. 

“Months at least.  You?”

“Awake?”  Felicity let out a bitter laugh.  “Just over three weeks.  Before that?”  She shook her head.  “They say a month, but…”

“Who knows if anything they say is true?” the girl finished, her mouth flattening into an angry line and her eyes fixating in the distance.  Only a moment later, though, they snapped back to Felicity and she said defensively, “I’m not the youngest prisoner here, you should know.  My…the guy who came with me, he’s only 18.”

Eighteen.  Crap.  And, wow, the age thing was sore subject it seemed.  But so much more importantly…were they another couple just like her and Oliver?  God, that was horrifically young to be subjected to…frack, two teenagers thrown into Heat.  Hormones on top of hormones.  It was inhumane. 

But that was assuming it was all the same.  Treatments and Heat and Soulmates…

Felicity stepped forward again, her heart starting to a little beat faster.   “You mean your… _mate_?” she asked tentatively, biting her lip.

“Mate?” The girl sneered, chuckling darkly and rolling her eyes once again.  Felicity almost wanted to make a joke about them getting stuck that way, she did it so often.  “Boy, they’ve got you brainwashed, don’t they?”  The girl pulled one knee up to her chest, yanking her dress over it and hugging it to her.

Felicity was incredibly impressed by her balance.  And her talent for making her feel foolish.  “It’s a weird word,” Felicity conceded, but the way the girl said it told her that her experiences on this island weren’t so different than hers and Oliver’s.  “But we are Soul _mates_ and all.”

“Soulmates? You really believe that crap, don’t you?”  The girl laughed.  It wasn’t a pretty sound.  “I bet you believe in unicorns and Santa Claus too?”  She was guarded, this child…and, yes, Felicity had no doubt that she was a child, with her quick, angry responses.

“I’m Jewish.  So, a definitive ‘no’ to Santa Claus.”  It was an easy reply and it got an obstinate, if respectful look from the girl.  “And yes, I do believe in Soulmates.”

The way Felicity said it, she knew she _sounded_ sure.  Confident and grown up.  Of _course_ , she believed in Soulmates.  Like, of course, she believed in global warming and evolution.  It was just science.

But then she had an awful thought.  Were Soulmates _really_ science?  Because the only proof Felicity had that this _was_ science was the word of the people…the _clones_ …who were also her abductors.  And, maybe, this girl didn’t believe in Soulmates because she didn’t feel what Felicity felt.  And if that was true…then that called into question everything. 

Supposedly, the clones were picking people because of a genetic link, a link that two people were supposed to be able to _feel_.  Felicity believed, because she trusted that feeling.  It wasn’t as if she had gotten her hands on the genetic testing.  But if this girl didn’t _feel_ it…

If Soulmates weren’t a real thing for _this_ girl and the guy she came with, that poor eighteen-year-old boy, then it called in to question whether it was true for Oliver and Felicity as well.

Was Felicity just seeing what she wanted to see?  Was she just so in love with Oliver that she craved this validation, this scientific ‘proof’ that they belonged together?  That he wouldn’t leave her for someone better once they got back to the real world?

“Don’t you feel it?” Felicity asked the girl, trying very hard _not_ to sound desperate.  “The love, the connection, the—”

“Ugh!”  The girl threw her hands up in the air.  “You sound just like _him_!”

“Him?”  Felicity’s eyebrows flew up.  _That_ was interesting.

“Him…my ‘ _mate’_.”  The girl said the last with a sneer.  There were no finger quotes, but with her tone and her expression…she didn’t need them.  She didn’t seem like someone who would deign to finger quote anyway. 

And, just like that, Felicity relaxed, her brief foray into self-doubt completely wiped away, leaving her feeling silly for her lack of faith.  She actually had to bite her cheek to keep from smiling her relief.  Just because this girl didn’t _believe_ in Soulmates, didn’t mean she didn’t _have_ one.  Felicity knew Denial, with a capital ‘D’ when she saw it.

“He sounds wonderful…your guy,” Felicity risked.  She had to be so careful with her words.  Challenging her too much on the Soulmate thing may just prove more dangerous than calling her out on her youth.

Talking to this girl in her tree may prove to be exhausting.  Not only did Felicity want to make sure she didn’t run away, but her didn’t think her heart could handle her standing up on that branch again.

But, unexpectedly, the girl gave a small, almost smile, a proud light in her eyes.  She looked young and sweet and in love and Felicity’s heart went out to this poor wounded girl.  Then the girl in the tree very visibly forced herself to slump again, saying with a casualness that Felicity could now tell was affected, “He’s okay.  He’s an idealist.  God, only knows how after everything.  A romantic.  Guess you are too?”

_Was_ Felicity an idealist?  She certainly hadn’t been at this girl’s age.  Though…maybe she had been.  Back when she had dabbled in hacktivism.  Wasn’t that just another way to try to bring out the best in the world?  Maybe that was what idealism was, not _seeing_ the world as ideal, but thinking you can and _should_ help make it that way.

“I suppose, I am.”  Felicity looked over this angry girl and felt a strange kinship to her.  Felicity’s heart went out to her.  If a Soulmate couldn’t heal her, what could?  “And you?  I assume you’re a pessimist?”

The girl bristled.  “I’m a _pragmatist_.  I see the world the way it _is_.”

That’s what all pessimists said.  But Felicity was smart enough not to point _that_ out.  “And what way is that?” she asked gently, not as a challenge, but because she genuinely wanted to know how this girl saw things.  Wow, Felicity really _must_ be an idealist, because already she felt the urge to save her.

But the girl in question gave her a look that told her that she thought Felicity’s question was pretty damn stupid.  Luckily, she answered anyway, even though her voice was dripping with sarcasm, “We’re captives on an island where they’re messing with our DNA and I’m not even surprised.  _That’s_ the world we live in.  They say they are doing it for the greater good, but we all know that’s a load of crap.  They’re doing it for _themselves_.  It’s the only reason anybody does anything.”

Whoa.  Okay.  That was worse than Oliver.  Way worse.  “That sounds _pretty_ pessimistic,” Felicity murmured, but before the girl could go off on another tirade, she added, “What about your guy?  Is he only out for himself?”

Narrowing her eyes, the girl gave Felicity an I-know-what-you-did-there look, before she hugged her leg tighter and turned her face away to look back across the beach.  Felicity had almost given up on her answering when she muttered, “He’s different.”

Felicity bit her lip.  That was a victory.  She wasn’t going to ruin it by showing it, though.

Besides, the girl started talking again.  “So, is your… _mate_ ,” again with the sneer on the word, “all sunshine and rainbows like you?”  

Felicity let herself smile at that.  “No.”  She shook her head.  Just the idea of it… “No, he’s not.”

“He…I’m assuming it’s a he…these asshats seem to be the homophobic types.  Male and female.  Two by two and all,” the girl rambled on.  She seemed to be very good at doing that to keep the conversation from getting too personal.  “But you wouldn’t think souls would discriminate boys from girls when picking mates, you know?”

A grin spread across Felicity’s face.  She was starting to really like this broken, tough, porcupine of a girl.  “No, I don’t think souls would, but… _my_ Soulmate, Oliver, he’s a guy and he’s…he’s a bit of a _pragmatist_ himself.”  Though, maybe that wasn’t right.  He was more of a pessimistic idealist.  He saw the world as pretty dark, but couldn’t help from constantly trying to change it for the better.

The girl tried to hide it, but Felicity thought her eyes lit up with interest.  “So…he doesn’t buy this Soulmate crap either?”

“Oh, he does.” And Felicity knew she got a little dreamy-eyed when she said it.  Because her hard-edged Oliver, who saw the world as a series of threats, he had the most romantic soul.

Wrinkling her nose, the girl in the tree adopted a petulant expression, like a child foiled.  “Then you’re all fools.”

“Or we’re just in love,” Felicity countered gently.  “Or don’t you love your…guy?”  Because she really thought this girl did.  It was in her eyes when she spoke about him.  Wow, how weird must it be to find your Soulmate before you were legally old enough to drink?  “Don’t you feel—?”

“Eck!”  The girl bounded to her feet, still in the damn tree, nearly giving Felicity an aneurism as she did.  “Look, I didn’t call you over to talk about feelings.  I don’t need a shrink.  In my experience, they are all kind of assholes so…”

When the girl turned to leave…or climb into another tree…or whatever…Felicity knew she had gone too far.  Holding her hands up in surrender, she called out, “Okay.  Okay, no feelings talk.  Got it.  And I’m no shrink.  I’m much better with computers than people.  Cleary,” she muttered to herself.  “Back home all I did stare at a screen all day.”  And that was true enough. Though, it sounded pretty pathetic when she said it out loud.

But it seemed to be what the girl needed to get her to turn back and even smile as she swung onto another branch and sat, this time straddling it.  “You must just _love_ it here then?”

Felicity looked around at the wildness surrounding the girl.  At the beach and ocean behind her.  The only tech in sight were the bracelets on their wrists.  The girl’s bracelet was black though, not green. 

“It’s certainly different,” Felicity murmured.  The girl didn’t want to hear that Felicity barely missed her computers when she was alone with Oliver.  Didn’t even think about them for long stretches of time. 

There was a moment of silence, a little too awkward for comfort, and Felicity searched hastily for a safe subject to talk about.  The last thing she wanted was for the conversation to end.  Finally, Felicity settled upon, “So, why _did_ you call me over?”

Shrugging, the girl pulled up one leg to rest her chin on her knee.  “I just thought I’d warn you about Mera.  The redheaded chick.  She not very friendly.  Kinda skittish, actually, and as far as I can tell she doesn’t speak much English.” The girl pierced her lips, then admitted, “Maybe I was trying to see if you did.”

And Felicity would bet quite a bit of money that the girl was looking for a friend, even if she’d rather cut out her own tongue than admit it.

Then the whole ‘redhead not speaking English’ thing sunk in and Felicity sort of deflated.  So much for another ally.  “Do you know what she does speak?”  Maybe they could piece together some sort of communication.  Felicity had some Spanish and French.  And there was her childhood Hebrew.  She knew Oliver spoke fluent Russian and Mandarin and wouldn’t be surprised if he had a few more up his sleeve.

“No language I ever heard.”

Well, that was disappointing.  Felicity looked back to the beach where the redhead…Mera, was still standing in the softly rolling tide, staring out at the ocean.  Letting out a deep sigh, Felicity turned back to her girl in the tree.  “How many others are there?”  When the girl looked confused, Felicity clarified, “Captives?”

“Oh.  You’re looking at it,” the girl answered, lying her cheek on her knee and looking…just sad…lonely, maybe.  “Not enough for an ark.  Guess, it’s hard to find people _worthy_.  Lucky us.  We’re the Chosen few.”

So much for Felicity’s slave revolution.  Bitter disappointment filled her, but then Felicity felt horrifically guilty for being upset that there weren’t _more_ people being held against their will.  “We’re the only ones you’ve seen?”  She was grasping at straws and she knew it.

The girl’s eyes got distant again.  “Well, a while ago, when they first let us out of the cage for some exercise, there was another couple.  But one day they just stopped coming out.  Like they disappeared or something.  I guess that’s what we have to look forward to.  Getting poofed someday.”

A chill ran down Felicity’s spine.  Dear lord, what had happened to them?  Did they escape?  Were they returned home?  Felicity highly doubted _that_ , unfortunately.  More likely their training was complete so they were shipped off to whatever nefarious plan the mysterious Dr. Young had in mind for them.  _If_ they were even still alive…

Great.  More to worry and obsess over.  Just what she needed.

Felicity was just getting herself good and creeped out, when she heard leaves rustling and a low growl.  Then something came at them—

And for the second time in less than an hour, Felicity let out a yelp, jumping a good foot in the air.

The little brat, of course, laughed.  It was both reassuring and annoying. 

Felicity took a deep breath and tried valiantly not to run screaming as a large cat, or a very small jaguar, pounced onto the branch next to the girl.  But instead of attacking, the beast stretched out, allowing itself to be… _pet_.  Oh, dear Lord.  What the…?  Okay, could this day _get_ any weirder?

The animal turned its graceful head and looked at Felicity with piercing golden eyes, not unlike the girl’s.  It was another one of those moments where she questioned if she were dreaming.

“Oh, my God,” Felicity breathed.  “Is that a… _bobcat_?”

“Ummhmm.”  The girl smiled, looking at the cat with a quiet sort of affection as she stroked its scruffy fur.  

Okay, Felicity had thought this girl was odd before, but this was a _whole_ new level.  Her full attention was on the cat, who was leaning its large body into her as if it were indeed a house cat, which it very much was _not_.  There was no way that animal wasn’t fracking dangerous.  But the girl looked the most relaxed Felicity had seen her. 

“I call her ‘Bob.’”

Bob.     

Felicity’s forehead scrunched up as she tried to process this bobcat named ‘Bob.’   And who could blame her for feeling flustered, given the cat continued to look at Felicity like she was a tasty treat?  Did bobcats attack big animals like humans or did they stick to small ones like squirrels and rabbits?  They were certainly hunters.  Felicity looked into those intelligent eyes…yup.   For sure, a hunter.

“After Bobby?” Felicity asked, though, _obviously_ the cat was named ‘Bob’ because it was a bobcat.  Still, she found it odd that it shared a name with one of the clones.

“Who’s Bobby?”

Felicity tore her eyes from the scary looking cat and focused back on the girl, who seemed to be genuinely confused.  Had she not met Bobby?  Hmmm.  Maybe they needed to compare notes more carefully.  There was so much Felicity wanted to ask her.  About her experiences on the island…and off.

“The boy…teenage doppelgänger...clone…?” Felicity tried.

“ _Ohhhh_.  You mean Thing 4.”  Recognition dawned on the girl’s face and she nodded.  “Yeah.  No.  I refuse to use their ‘names.’  Or acknowledge that they even have them.  I’m really not convinced they’re human.  Don’t you find them creepy?”

Felicity smothered a semi-hysterical laugh and nodded.  She couldn’t help imagine this girl calling them all ‘Thing’ and ignoring their names.  It was too awesome.  Felicity let out a real laugh, one she just couldn’t contain.  She couldn’t wait to tell Oliver.

Still, Felicity felt bad for this girl’s Amy.  Poor kid.  It wasn’t _her_ fault.

Then a strange horn sounded behind her, drawing Felicity’s attention away from ‘Bob,’ who thankfully looked too content to attack, and the girl in the tree.

Bob let out a distressed snarl as the noise rose an octave and the girl muttered, “Shit, here we go again.”

Felicity narrowed her eyes and found the redhead…Mera…had a conch shell to her lips and was blowing, letting out a loud note.  Almost too loud to be from a normal woman with a normal shell.  Not that Felicity was an expert on conch shells or anything.  But the winds were picking up and the ocean growing rough, which made the sound seem almost otherworldly.

“What is she doing…?”  Felicity turned back to ask the girl in the tree, but she was gone.  “ _Frack_.”  Her eyes searched the forest, but found no sign of the girl and her strange pet.

Should she try to go after her?  Felicity hadn’t even gotten her name.  God _damn_ it!  She should have just asked and not worried about scaring her off.  Now, she was gone and Felicity was stuck calling her ‘the girl in the tree’ indefinitely.  Not to mention the guff Oliver was going to give her.  Some detective she was.

But for now, Felicity was more interested in what the redhead was doing and why the girl had said she was doing it ‘again.’  Would have been nice if she’d hung around long enough to share.  But Felicity guessed the girl hadn’t had the sort of childhood that taught one stellar manners. 

Though why blowing on a conch shell would scare her off, Felicity couldn’t guess.  Then again, maybe the girl was just done with trying to hold a conversation and the distraction was as good as an excuse as any to skedaddle. 

Turning back to the woman on the beach, Felicity decided to focus on the fellow captive that hadn’t run off.  _Yet_.  This Mera may not speak English very well, but at least Felicity knew her name, and she hadn’t disappeared into the wilderness with a feral cat named Bob.  Wow…the captives on this island were one eccentric bunch.

Felicity started walking back over the beach, slowly, since it sounded like this woman was even more skittish than her girl in the tree.  Felicity paused where the water lapped the sand, wondering if she should remove her shoes and go in after the…Mera. 

A school of dolphins broke the surface, shocking a, “Whoa,” out of Felicity as the skies quickly darkened and the wind whipped at her dress and hair, pulling tendrils from the lace that held it back.

The wind brought with it a scent…and it wasn’t the scent of salt and ocean.  It was pine and musk.  It hit her like a punch to the gut, taking Felicity’s breath away.  A tightness formed in her chest and Pulled her backwards. 

It wasn’t anxiety.  _No_ , she was calm.  It was a knowledge.  It was…

_Oliver_. 

Suddenly, Felicity could smell him, clear as day.  She could _feel_ him.  He was close.  He was looking for her.  He _needed_ her…

Felicity’s heart rate sped up and tears pricked her eyes.  She had forgotten…how had she not realized how much she needed him?  How…?

Without pausing, Felicity turned away from the redhead and her shell and dolphins, her eyes searching the coast, the trees that lined the edge of the sand and led back into the woods.  Then before she knew what she was doing, Felicity was running.

Across the sand.  Away from the redhead.  Following the Pull.  Oliver was so close.  They’d been separated so long.  Too long.  And all that mattered now him. 

 

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

 

 

Oliver’s trip through the forest seemed to go by in a blink of an eye.  And, at the same time, it felt like hours since he had been separated from Felicity.

But after the initial panic and anger fell away, Oliver was able to settle into instinct.  Confidence and determination drove him.  Along with the certainty that Felicity was getting closer with each step.

And the longer Oliver ran, the more focused he became on this odd… _connection_ between them and the more he was convinced Felicity would be healthy and whole when he found her.  He would _feel_ it if she wasn’t.  He _knew_ it.

Oliver was close, damn close, when he heard the conch shell sound.  Felicity was so near he could taste it.  But, still, the noise brought him to a full stop.

There was something ominous in the horn-like sound.  Or maybe the ominous feeling just accompanied it.  Oliver was beginning to think this primal instinct thing went beyond his insane libido and need to protect Felicity.  He had felt at home in the forest for years, but this… _this_ was an intuition that bordered on the paranormal.  Almost as if he was one with the wilderness.

_Or,_ maybe, the Alpha in him just made him dramatic.  But, at the very least, Oliver’s senses were enhanced.

He closed his eyes and listened.  Oliver felt the subtle change in the breeze as it picked up in speed.  He could smell the ocean mixing with Felicity’s unique scent.  The scent that had been getting stronger and stronger as the miles between them melted away.

The ocean was close.  Felicity was close.  But the ominous feeling swelled.  Something was going on in the direction of that shell horn and it wasn’t good. 

Whether it had to do with Felicity or not, Oliver didn’t know, but he did know they were in the same direction and she could, at the very least, get caught in the crosshairs.

Oliver shot off again.  Somehow, even faster than before. The Pull leading him straight to his mate.

 

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

 

 

The Pull was strong and Felicity ran full out, as if someone had attached a chain to her heart and set the speed to reel her in at a break neck pace.  It felt like…if she didn’t run fast enough her heart would tear right out of her chest.

Two minutes ago, Felicity had been fine, confident that Oliver would find her and that they would be reunited soon.  She had been _fine_ with that.  _Soon_ had been good enough.  The itch, the need to feel his touch had been under control.

But now that Felicity felt how close he was, she needed Oliver with a passion she didn’t know she was capable of.  Her lungs burned and not with exertion.  Her vision blurred, but her feet kept moving.

And, maybe, there was also this sense that something bad was going to happen.  Or at least _could happen_ if she didn’t find Oliver quickly.  The darkening skies, the sad cry of the conch, the girl and her bobcat beating a hasty retreat…

Felicity had no idea what was happening but she wanted to be with Oliver when it did. 

Yet, even with all that, even with the Pull being intense and compelling, Felicity came to a full stop when… _Oh God_. 

She was too late.  Terror burst through her at the sight of three SUVS barreling down the beach toward her.  A scream froze in her throat.  Oliver.  He was so close.  Could he get to her in time?  If only she could see him, then Felicity might be able to…

The trucks came to a skidding halt, still rolling on the sand as the doors opened and Brians came pouring out.  There were more than a dozen of them.  So many of them.  They had never looked more terrifying or menacing.  And some of them were armed.  It was the first weapons Felicity had seen on this island. 

But…they weren’t coming for Felicity.  Or even Oliver, it seemed.  Oh, thank _God_.  Because…they didn’t even acknowledge her presence.  Didn’t look at her.  Didn’t even seem to know she was there.  Just headed past her in the opposite direction as the one the Pull told her Oliver was in.

Felicity needed to run.  To get to Oliver before they changed their minds.  She wanted to scream for him, but she didn’t dare for fear she would alert the Brians to her presence.  The idea of being faced with that many of them, without Oliver, was horrifying.  And why on Earth did they need to be armed?  As if they weren’t indestructible enough.

Stepped backward, Felicity eased closer to the forest, the Pull in her chest almost painful, but she moved slowly as she watched the clones run full out toward the redheaded woman.  Oh, how she pitied her in that moment.

Mera.  That poor woman.  What had she done?  What were they going to do _to_ her?  Felicity felt like a coward for not doing something to aid this woman, her fellow captive, but what could she do?  She was completely helpless.  Maybe Oliver would have an idea, but…

The previously calm surf was rolling in now in tall bursts, the ocean spray flying.  The sky was darkening quickly.  There was quite a storm coming.  Maybe it was only that.  Maybe the clones were just trying to get Mera out of the ocean before the storm.

Yeah.  And they really _were_ trying to save the world.

Great.  Now, Felicity sounded like the girl in the tree…who she really wished she had a better name for.  This was getting old.

Mera was getting soaked by the waves, but she continued to walk further and further into the surf.  What the hell was she doing?  She was going to drown if she kept this up.  Was she… _suicidal_ after everything they had done to her on this island?  It was a deeply disturbing thought and it set Felicity’s stomach churning.

Maybe the Brian's _were_ just trying to protect her.

The army of clones were sludging into the water behind Mera, spanning out, as if to surround her.  Well, at least they weren’t going to let her drown.  Probably.  Felicity kind of assumed they didn’t want her to die.  This would all be kind of pointless if they allowed the captives to just drown after all the effort they had put in.

Before the Brians could completely block Felicity’s view, the woman turned and…she would swear Mera looked right at her.  She was as gorgeous as the girl in the tree, but in a completely different way.  Her eyes were the exact shade of the ocean right before the storm set in.

But the thing that made Felicity’s breath hitch, made her heart stutter and her legs go weak, was the way the ocean spray soaked her short white dress, making it cling to her, bringing her enormous pregnant belly into definition.

Oh…dear… _God_.  She was pregnant.  This woman underwent treatments and Heat and now she was _pregnant_. 

Just like Felicity.  Only _she_ wasn’t pregnant.  Unless she was.

Holy…

“ _Felicity_!”

“Oliver,” Felicity breathed. 

She shook herself, trying to snap herself out of the strange trance she was in.   Felicity yanked her eyes away from the redheaded woman, the _very pregnant_ redheaded woman and instinctively searched for her mate.  She made herself concentrate on the Pull as her eyes searched the tree line.  She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there, just out of sight.

“ _Oliver_!” tore out of her throat before Felicity could call the word back, before she could remind herself that she didn’t want the Brians’ attention.  But the wind and the waves were starting to roar, dampening the sound anyway.  

Felicity burst forward, her feet moving before she could remember to tell them to, running _to_ the love of her life, _away_ from the girl that…may very well represented her future. 

Tears filled her eyes and spilled over.  Oliver.  Oliver.  Oliver.  Felicity stumbled and she ran and she stumbled again.  She could almost feel his arms closing around her long before she reached him.  God, she needed his touch.

_Finally_ , Oliver burst from the tree line, running at full speed, so much faster than her, thank God, and Felicity sobbed.  She thought maybe she jumped the last yard or so.  And Oliver caught her, his arms closing around her as their torsos collided together at a force that should have hurt, but, instead, felt amazing and perfect and… _everything_.

Lifting her off the ground, Oliver surrounded her and the Pull crystallized into _Connection_.  Felicity found his face with trembling fingers, tracing his features as she tried to rememorize them through her rapidly blurring eyesight.  As if she could ever forget a thing about him.

“ _Felicity_ —”

She didn’t let Oliver finish.  She couldn’t.  Because they still weren’t close enough.  Felicity slammed her lips onto his and curled her leg around his thigh.  All that mattered was getting so close they could never be separated again.

Later, they would deal with the pregnant woman and the crazy cat girl and the 500 clones on the beach.  Right now, all Felicity wanted… _needed_ was Oliver.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> Hopefully this is a good place to end for the year.  Chapter 17 (which is really just the reunion scene) should be out in early January sometime.  After that, I have no idea what I’m going to be working on/releasing next.  My Muse is all over the place.  Hopefully, it will settle on something after Christmas.
> 
> I didn’t get to write a Christmas fic this year, but I do have Finding the Holiday Spirit from last year if anyone is interested. (Shameless plug I know).
> 
> I’m really, really looking forward to hearing people’s thoughts and theories about my two new ladies on the island.  If you have a minute to take a tiny break from holiday craziness to let me know it would be incredibly appreciated (or to click kudos if you haven’t yet.  J)
> 
> Forever thanks to the two ladies who I couldn’t do this without **Ireland1733 and** **Fairytalehearts.** Much love to both of them.
> 
> Happy Holiday everyone!  Thanks for reading!!!
> 
> Emmy


	17. The Coming Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver hadn’t planned on calling out Felicity’s name.  He hadn’t wanted to alert her, or more importantly _them_ , to his presence.  He had planned to stay back, in the woods, and case out the situation first.  Then decide on the best plan to extricate her.  Think first.  Act later.  Novel, but it had worked for him in the past.

But, then, Oliver caught sight of Felicity at a distance no normal vision should be able to perceive.  She was just standing there, alone on the beach.  No extrication needed.  At first glance anyway.  Her expression was worried, though.  She chewed her lip as the escalating winds whipped her dress and hair around her. 

She was the most beautiful thing Oliver had ever seen.

“ _Felicity_!”

Her name burst from his lips completely involuntarily.   Oliver would like to say that he’d cased out the situation and, in those milliseconds, determined that it was safe to call out for her.  Maybe, that was even partially true, but he also knew that his _need_ for her in that moment was irrational and all-encompassing and that made him rash.

The strange thing was, Oliver couldn’t even bring himself to care. 

He could see her face change, even through the trees.   Oliver felt her focus shift from whatever was happening on the coast, to him.   _Fully_ to him.  Before her head moved, before Felicity looked to him, he felt it.  It didn’t even seem like she could see him at this distance, but, somehow, he heard her whispering his name even as the wind started to roar.

“ _Oliver_!” Felicity yelled louder, her face an intense mix of relief and joy and desperation and he was sure that he mirrored all of that. 

Oliver had been wrong.  _That_ was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Then Felicity was racing toward him and Oliver was almost certain that she was going to take a tumble into the sand and it gave him new motivation to shoot forward so he could catch her before she fell.

But she didn’t fall.  Felicity made it, running to him, crashing into his chest.  Oliver leaned down instinctively and caught her, pulling her closer, allowing her to wrap her arms tightly around his neck as his hands spanned her hips and waist, lifting her against him.

The feeling of having Felicity back in his arms was… _indescribable_.  And, God, he didn’t even think it was mid-morning.  They had only been separated for a couple of hours, if that, yet it felt like they were being reunited after weeks…months.  Oliver needed to get her as close as possible.  He crushed her to him, his muscles trembling as he simultaneously sent them the message to be careful, to not squeeze too hard.  The way he was feeling, he could hurt her.

Felicity’s hands were all over him, though, distracting him.  Her fingertips ran over his neck and face.  She cupped his chin, pulling Oliver’s head up from where it was tightly pressed into the space between her neck and shoulder so that he could meet and lock eyes with her tear-filled gaze. 

Oliver hated seeing Felicity in tears.  It always broke his heart. 

But not this time.  This time, the emotion just resonated deep in his chest and… _poof_ …the Pull was gone.  Replaced by the most amazing feeling of home and connection and love.  Oliver had never thought himself a sappy guy, but all he wanted, in that moment, was for… _that feeling_ to last forever. 

He opened his mouth to tell her, to try to explain it.  But, in the end, all Oliver did was moan her name, “ _Felicity_ —”

And, apparently, Felicity had other plans.  _Better_ plans.  She yanked Oliver’s mouth to hers. Their lips connected and tongues tangled and _this_ was what the world righting itself felt like.  It was perfect.  

The kiss was desperate at first, but softened of its own free will.  Oliver would swear that their kisses were sentient things.  They had a mind of their own and he often felt that he was just along for the ride.  It was a ride that he would happily take anywhere.

Thunder boomed, making Oliver crack open his eyes, drawing his gaze over Felicity’s shoulder to the beach, where the storm was rolling in.

And it looked like the storm wasn’t just the literal kind.  Oliver hadn’t fully realized it before, his focus being entirely on Felicity….so much for canvasing the situation…but SUVs lined the beach and swarms of Tweedle Dees and Tweedle Dums covered the surf and shore like locusts.

Thankfully, none of the hulking asshats were even turned in their direction.  Their one-track minds were focused on something off the coast.  But that didn’t mean Oliver felt like taking his chances.  He lifted Felicity, her legs automatically finding his waist, and he carried her into the shelter of the trees lining forest.

Oliver leaned her back against a moss-covered oak tree, one large enough to easily block them from view of anyone on the beach.  Then it was his turn to run his hands over Felicity’s face, brushing aside flyaway curls, checking for scrapes and bruises.  The forest was a dangerous place.  One that Felicity wasn’t used to.  She was a woman who grew up in a dessert and lived in an urban jungle.  It was unforgivable the way they had abandoned her in the woods. 

The old Oliver, the one who had survived Lian Yu and was indoctrinated into the Bratva, the man he had _thought_ died with Tommy, whispered in the back his mind that for every scrape he found a Brian would die. Oliver had to forcibly push those thoughts away.  The primitive Alpha was too like that man.  Too like the Hood. 

Oliver needed to find a way to fight those urges.  It was war he dreaded forging again.  But for now…

“Are you okay?  Did they hurt you?” Oliver asked the question gently, in direct opposition to the emotion churning in his gut.

Thankfully, Felicity shook her head, a bright smile, almost giddy, blooming across her face.  “No.  No.  I’m fine.”  She was out of breath, but that may just be from the kisses, so Oliver forced himself to not over-analyze it.  She felt healthy and whole in his arms and that smile did wonders to calm the Beast.

Oliver knew Felicity hated it when he was overprotective, so he wasn’t at all sure why he persisted, “Are you sure?”  He ran a thumb across her cheek.  “You’re crying.”  Ah, that was why. 

Felicity just laughed, her hand coming to join his and swipe the wetness away far more impatiently than he had.  “Happy tears, I guess.  I hadn’t even realized….” She took a shaky breath, but her beaming smile and soft touch was everything.  “I was absolutely fine, actually, until I saw…well _felt_ you.  Then I was just so overwhelmed with…I dunno, the need to see you.  Like I hadn’t even realized how much I missed you.  Which is silly, it hasn’t been _that_ long—”

Oliver cut Felicity off with a hard kiss, because…because… _God_ , she tied him in knots.  He had never experienced anything like this.  This mirroring of his own feelings, the _intensity_ of those feelings…

Oliver had lived a life of intensity.  He had to learn how to shut down and push back as many of his emotions as he could.  Hide them. He’d had no choice.  They were a liability in the world he lived it.   And the things he had experienced…they were things most people never had the misfortune to feel, the range of grief and agony, the _rage_.  The heights of hope and its complete absence.  And now, with Felicity, the pinnacles of ecstasy.

Still, somehow, they kept reaching new extremes.  It would be terrifying if Oliver had to go through it alone.

“It’s _okay_ ,” Felicity soothed, moving her fingers from her cheek to his.  “It was all very civilized, really.  They just left me in the forest.”

Oliver’s jaw clenched.  There was nothing civilized about leaving a woman like Felicity defenseless in the wilderness.

“Really,” Felicity reassured, her hands running from his shoulders to his elbows and back again.  “ _Nothing_ happened.  I got a speech about listening to my instincts and I took a leisurely walk in the woods.  On a path.”  Her lips twisted in a way that almost looked like she was disappointed in that, but before Oliver could question it, she asked, “Are _you_ alright? You were the one who was manhandled.”

Honestly, Oliver hadn’t wasted a second thinking about that.  If he was bruised from the fight he hadn’t felt a thing.  “I’m fine.  Now.”

His implication must have been clear, because Felicity’s grin widened and she surged forward to press a hard kiss against Oliver’s lips. 

“I knew you’d find me!” Felicity’s smile was blinding when she finally pulled away.  It stirred something fierce and serious inside of Oliver.

“ _Always_ ,” he vowed, feeling that Beast he’d held at bay since their Heat rumbling underneath the surface.  But, maybe, the Beast had surged to the forefront the moment Oliver had stepped into the sunshine.  “Never forget it.  I will _always_ find you.”

Oliver was half expecting a declaration that Felicity could take care of herself, but instead she just sighed happily, her arms winding loosely over his shoulders.  “When Amy dropped me off, she said we would find each other by following this Pull in the center of our chests.  That we would just _know_ where the other was.”

He nodded.  Almost frantically.  Because that was it _exactly_.  It would have been nice if Oliver had gotten similar instruction.  He supposed he should be grateful that Felicity had gotten it. 

The happiness on Felicity’s face dimmed and she swallowed.  “But I got all turned around. I had no idea where I was being pulled _to_.  Well, I knew I was being Pulled to _you_ , but I couldn’t tell what direction you were in, so I just followed the dirt road.  I felt like such a fool—”

“—you could never be a fool—”

“—but I knew you would find me so I was never even a little bit worried about that.” Felicity had started speaking a mile a minute and Oliver wasn’t even sure she heard him.  “You’re so good at following your instincts and I get so caught up in my thoughts—”

“—that’s because you have so many brilliant ones.”  Oliver smiled and pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead, maybe glowing a bit at her praise.  He _had_ found her.  On his instincts alone.  It felt incredible. 

Felicity let out a breathy laugh, but kept talking, with barely a pause, “…and I came to this fork in the road and I thought they were pranking me it was so ridiculously literal.”  Oliver had to chuckle at that.  “And I was pretty sure you were to the Right, through the woods, but I heard the ocean and singing and I thought that if I went to the beach it would be easier for you to find me and—”

“I knew you’d go to the beach.”

Felicity finally took a breath.  It ended in a happy sigh. “You did?”

And she was looking at him like…God, like he hung the moon.  It was too much.  It was everything Oliver hadn’t realized he wanted from life.  His throat closed and all he could do was nod. 

This time, when Felicity attacked his lips, Oliver met her halfway, sinking into the kiss and letting it clear his mind, letting all the worry and rage float away in the warm bliss that was her mouth and tongue.

When Oliver finally decided to let her breathe, Felicity gave a contented little moan as their lips parted.  “Soulmates are real,” she whispered against his lips.

“Yes, they are.” There wasn’t a question in Oliver’s mind.  He felt himself falling even further into the blue that was Felicity’s eyes and leaned into her, pressing her into the moss-covered tree.  But the way she said it… “Did you doubt it?”

Felicity shook her head, her body soft and relaxed against his. “No, I…it’s just so _real_ with you here like this.”

God, how did Felicity always manage to take these complicated emotions inside him and put them into the most perfect words?  “Yeah,” was all Oliver could say and even that was rough.  Compared to her, he was as articulate as this tree trunk.

“And the way you found me…” Felicity shook her head again, looking almost in awe.  “I can’t believe how quickly you were able to do it.  But, _of course,_ I believe it, because you’re _you_.”

Oliver didn’t know what to do with that.  He really wasn’t sure anyone had ever…ever... _believed_ in him like that and…he blew out a breath, his eyes falling away from hers.  “The Pull, you know.  It was pretty strong and, well, I could kind of smell you.”

“Huh…” Felicity’s mouth fell open.  “See, now that isn’t fair.  How am I supposed to even start to pull my weight?  You smell like the _forest_.  This entire Island smells like you.  No wonder I couldn’t find you.”

What did it say about him that instead of being offended, Oliver was ridiculously charmed by Felicity’s outrage?  It was so rare that he felt like he was doing something right, especially in their relationship, even if back home it had only been…professional?  No, it had always been so much more than that.  It had been everything _but_ romantic.  At least not outwardly. 

And the idea of Felicity not pulling her weight was laughable.  She more than pulled her weight.  In fact, Oliver often felt that she was pulling his as well.  But his guilt over that had always been outweighed by his sheer need for her, his reliance on her.

It felt damn good to be able to do something right for her, for them.  “I’m sorry?” Oliver shrugged, knowing full well that Felicity would easily be able to read how very much he did _not_ mean it. 

And that was confirmed by the way Felicity rolled her eyes at him.  “Well, I guess it balanced out in the end.  And the smell…I think it kept me calm.  It sort of felt like you were with me the entire time.”

Even with everything else, that earnest confession still kicked Oliver in the gut, winded him.  They may be Soulmates, but it was so hard to accept, _really_ accept, that he meant as much to her as she did to him.  His eyes filled with tears and his throat closed.  “ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ …”

Her head tipped to the side as she contemplated him.  Oliver could see the wheels turning, but as always, the intricacies were a mystery to him.  Felicity shook her head, whispering, “I don’t think that you understand how much I love you.”

A semi hysterical laugh burst out of Oliver’s throat.  He wondered if she could read his mind now.  His voice deep and gravelly, he murmured, “I’m beginning to.” 

Though, it may take a long time to accept it fully.  Oliver kissed her and Felicity wiped his face free of tears as he had done for her earlier.  When had he become so utterly unashamed to cry in front of her?

They savored the moment for as long as they could, Oliver struggling to regain control of his emotions, when the sound of a yelling Ann finally distracted them enough to make him pull his lips from Felicity’s. 

Oliver looked out onto the beach, trying to shield Felicity’s body with his.  He needn’t have.  The yelling was nowhere near them.  Oliver strained to hear, but he couldn’t make out the words.

The identical hoard seemed to have come to a standstill, forming a semicircle at the edge of the ocean with an Ann yelling instructions or whatnot from a spot closer to the SUVs.  Even with Oliver’s enhanced hearing, and, yes, after this morning he was convinced his hearing was as enhanced as his sight…he couldn’t tell what anyone was saying over the roar of the wind.

“Do you know what’s going on out there?” Oliver whispered against Felicity’s ear.  Though why, all of a sudden, he decided to be quiet, he had no idea.  The Brians didn’t seem to give a fuck about them, only about whatever was happening at the shore.

Felicity craned her neck to see and Oliver reluctantly moved so he was _entirely_ blocking her view.  Shaking her head, her eyes moved over the distant scene, taking it in.  “I don’t know.  Mera was just blowing a conch shell and then all hell—”

“Mera?  Who’s Mera?”  Had he missed something? 

Felicity’s eyes snapped back to Oliver’s.  “Oh!  Yeah, that the woman with the red hair.  I got her name.  Mera.”

Well, Felicity had certainly been doing more than wandering aimlessly in the time they had been apart.  “You talked to her?”  Because that was _big_ if she had talked to her. 

“No,” Felicity sighed, again sneaking a peek at the drama on the beach.  “Apparently, she doesn’t speak English.”

Well, that was disappointing, but… “How do you know if you didn’t talk to her?”

“The girl in the tree told me.”

Okay, apparently, Felicity had decided to be mysterious and make Oliver work for every piece of information.  “The girl in the tree?  What the hell—?”

“Sorry,” Felicity visibly shook herself.  Then licking her lips and nodding, she finally turned her full attention back to Oliver.  “Yes.  There was this girl in a tree.  She’s another captive, only younger.  Well, I guess not _that_ much younger, five years younger, but she looked 16.  She was still a teenager, even if she’s technically legally an adult, but she implied that I looked 16, too, because of what they did to us and I suppose without make up, I could….do you think I look 16?”

Wow and Felicity’s babbling was back with a vengeance.  She seemed to have two speeds this afternoon: on and off.  Oliver’s eyebrows shot up and he blinked as he tried to process it all.  Of course, she was staring at him like she was expecting an answer. 

“You, uh, look like…yourself.  Young, sure…”  Okay, why was Oliver feeling like there wasn’t a right answer here?  Like this was one of those boyfriend traps?  Weren’t there more important things to talk about? “You don’t need makeup and you certainly don’t look like a child.  You look like you.”

Oliver held his breath, because that was the best he could do.  Honest and simple.  Hopefully, nothing Felicity would get insulted by.  He hated this part of being a boyfriend.  When Laurel asked these kinds of questions there was no way he could win.

But Felicity just shrugged and seemed satisfied enough with his answer.  And in this case, Oliver would gladly take that.  Felicity wasn’t Laurel, but he still had flashbacks from the arguments that started over a simple question about how she looked.

When Felicity moved on, Oliver breathed a sigh of relief, even if she was already speeding ahead of him.  “She, the girl in the tree, was dressed like me… _us_ , me and Mera, but I think that she ripped out the lace neckline.  She was certainly a feisty one.  You’d like her.  Well, not _like_ like her, because, obviously, Soulmates with me.  Like her like a little sister, like her.  And she hates the clones as much as you do—”

Oliver laughed.  Because Felicity was adorable and, honestly, he was having trouble keeping up.  Her mouth slammed shut and she gave him a disgruntled ‘what’ face.

Shaking his head, Oliver just smiled.  “That’s just a lot of information, Sweet.”

Felicity frowned, shooting him a challenging look.  “Am I going too fast for you?”

Oliver grinned wider and hiked her up his hips, adjusting his grip.  “Not at all.  I like it.”  He liked everything about her.  “Keep going.”

“Well, there isn’t much more,” Felicity continued, though at a more reasonable pace.  “The girl in the tree was rather cagey with information.  She _did_ say there were only three couples here, including us.  Which, I’m ashamed to admit I was a little disappointed about.  Fewer allies, you know?  Oh, and there was a couple before, but they disappeared.”

Oliver’s brain came to a full stop at that last sentence.  “Disappeared?” That feeling of doom…of danger…that he had felt in the forest resurfaced, tying up his insides. They needed off the island before one of them _disappeared_.

Felicity pierced her lips together and gave him a look that said she had the same thought.  “That was all she said.  All she _knew_ , I think.  But…oh and the girl…she had a pet Bobcat.”

“What!” Oliver roared.  He fucking _knew_ it.  What the hell were they thinking abandoning Felicity on an island with wild animals roaming around?  “It didn’t come near you or—?”

“No.  I told you I’m _fine_.”  This time Felicity _did_ look disgruntled at his overprotectiveness.  “It seemed kinda tame, actually.  Well, not really, but it certainly liked the girl.  It ignored me.  In a typical cat way.”

“You didn’t get the girl’s name?”  Oliver would have thought it would have been the first question Felicity asked.  It certainly would have made this conversation easier to follow.

“No,” Felicity answered a tad defensively, wrinkling her nose as if she was embarrassed to admit that fact.  “But the cat’s name was Bob.”

“Bob the Bobcat?”  Seriously?  Now, Oliver was starting to doubt some of this was true. 

“I know, right?  Not very creative.  But I really didn’t want to challenge her.  The girl was rather skittish, which was why I was waiting to ask her name.  Of course, she disappeared before I could.”  Then a light sparked in Felicity’s eyes and she smiled.  “Though, I did ask why she named the cat after Bobby.  She said she didn’t.  In fact, she refuses to call him Bobby.  She calls him ‘Thing 4.’”

That shocked a belly laugh out of Oliver.  Now _that_ , was too crazy _not_ to be true.  “You’re right.  I like her already.” 

“Well, unfortunately, the girl _and_ her cat disappeared as soon as Mera blew the conch shell, so…”

Oliver frowned.  What was it about that conch shell?  Was he reading in to it or was it really more than it seemed?

Felicity, again, looked over at the Brians, resting her cheek against Oliver’s forehead as she did, and murmuring, “What do you think they are doing?”

Oliver followed her gaze and, for the first time, caught a glimpse of the woman, Mera, through the sea of Brians.  “It looks like they are trying to bring her back in, but I don’t know why they would need so many goons.  They should be able to grab her easily?”  Surely, if they could get Oliver into that fucking truck, they could get a slip of a girl to come in from the tide.

“Maybe because…” Felicity trailed off, her eyes widening and her legs slipping from around his waist.

She stiffened in his arms and Oliver allowed her to pull away enough that she was able to stand on her own two feet, but his heart rate accelerated.  She knew something and it didn’t sit well with her.  “ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ …?”

Felicity worried her bottom lip, her eyes skittering around Oliver’s chest level.  “Okay, so…I’m kind of hesitant to tell you this, because I’m afraid it will upset you—”

“ _Fe-li-ci-ty_.”   This time Oliver’s voice was harder.  This wasn’t a game.  They weren’t going back there.  “I thought we agreed not to keep secrets for that reason.  For _any_ reason.”

“Riiight.” Felicity still wouldn’t look at him, but her hands found their way to his chest, where her fingers beat a nervous rhythm.  “Yup.  We sure did.  So, I…” She swallowed before visibly forcing herself to look Oliver in the eyes.  “That woman, Mera…at least, that’s what the girl in the tree calls—”

“Felici—”

“Yes.  I’m getting there.  Well…mostly, I just saw Mera from the back, but she turned around just as you called my name and…”  Felicity took a deep breath, then blurted out, “She’s pregnant Oliver.  Really, _really_ pregnant.” 

Felicity held her hand up in front of her to demonstrate, pushing against him as she did, bringing the involuntary image of a hugely pregnant belly trapped between them to Oliver’s mind.

Swallowing, Oliver’s eyes flew from Felicity’s imaginary belly to the ocean, looking for the woman in question.  Felicity’s… _discovery_ would certainly explain why the Brians were hesitant to manhandle her.  Especially if they had an investment in any progeny resulting from their genetic manipulations. 

And with _that_ thought…Oliver sucked in a hissing breath, his hands clutching at Felicity’s waist.  Her very _tiny_ waist.  _Christ_!

“Are you okay…? I mean…”  Felicity sounded good and nervous now, whether from fear of Oliver’s reaction or the idea that reproduction was at least one of the crazy scientist cult’s goals, he didn’t know.  Either way, he didn’t want her to be afraid.  He never wanted her to be afraid if he could help it.  “It’s okay if you’re upset.”

Oliver met her gaze and forced himself to smile.  “I’m not upset.”  And he wasn’t.  He didn’t know what he was, but upset wasn’t the word.  His eyes searched Felicity’s increasing anxious face and he gentled his tone even further. “Felicity, Sweet, you’re not pregnant.  You had the shot, remember?”

Because that had to be what she was most worried about, even if it was irrational.  It was what Oliver would be afraid of if Felicity hadn’t been brilliant enough to take precautions before they even left home.

But the way that Felicity swallowed made Oliver rethink that.  Maybe, he _should_ be afraid.  Or at least nervous.  Was the idea of her being pregnant less irrational than he thought?

“Well, here’s the thing…” Felicity murmured, her eyes blankly fixated on his chin.  “I’ve been thinking and…well, what if all the things that they’ve done to us…like fixing my vision and my allergies, your scars…what if that overpowered…or even got rid of…”  Her voice trailed off and the last words were barely audible, “the medicine in the shot.”

Oliver froze, staring into Felicity’s luminous eyes and...

“Oh.”

So.  That made a sick sort of sense.  Oliver probably should have considered that.  Before.  He didn’t know why he hadn’t, except…maybe he just hadn’t wanted to.

“Yeah, oh,” Felicity parroted, her eyes flickering to his, then back to study his jawline.

For his part, Oliver’s brain turned strangely sluggish as he watched Felicity chew on her lower lip.  He felt like the world had started to spin in slow motion.  He was having a difficult time wrapping his head around this one. 

Oliver had certainly thought about… _worried_ about…the possibility of pregnancy before their Heat.  In the strict terms of making sure that it _didn’t_ happen.

Actually, since that awful episode eight years ago, with Samantha, those were the only terms in which Oliver thought about having children.  Preventing them.  Ever since then, he had been extremely diligent about contraception.

But for the second time in his life, Oliver found himself in the position of contemplating himself as a father.  He was older, hopefully wiser, and in a hell of a lot more danger on a day to day basis. 

If that shot didn’t work…this was something that very well may be a done deal given the very vigorous nature of his and Felicity’s _unprotected_ sex lives.  And wasn’t that what Heat was all about?  Biologically?  Wasn’t the entire point enhanced fertility?

So…Oliver may already be looking at the mother of his child.

And he didn’t know if anything had ever sounded that _right_ before.  This… _this_ was the only woman Oliver ever wanted to have his child. 

Wow.  _Wow_.

For the first time, the idea of becoming a father didn’t create fear and panic and…the desire to run.  Well, there _was_ fear.  Because the prospect of keeping a baby…a small, delicate, helpless child, _their_ child…safe was a terrifying thing.

But mostly the idea was…fucking fantastic.  How insane was that?  Him and Felicity having a baby…?  It was crazy.  Surreal.  But it was with _Felicity_ and if anyone could make this work it was her.  They were a team.  He was better with her.  And maybe with her help Oliver could be a good enough father and…

And, yeah, Oliver wanted that. 

Maybe not on this goddamn island…okay, Oliver had finally found the motivation he needed to get them _home_.  ASAP.

“Please, say something,” Felicity whimpered, her nose crinkling and her eyes pleading, making Oliver realize for the first time that he had merely been staring at her for minutes on end.

“Sorry.”  Oliver blinked to clear his thoughts, running a thumb over Felicity’s cheek.  He had the intense and _insane_ urge to touch her belly, but stopped himself.  Too soon.  “Processing.”

Felicity grimaced.  “Freaking out processing…?”

Oliver smiled and dropped a kiss on her nose.  “Processing processing.”

Swallowing, Felicity asked in a small voice, “And did you come up with anything?”

And that was when Oliver realized that he had one job in this moment and it was to reassure _her_.  To wipe the worried expression off of Felicity’s face.  Because this was the future mother of his child, whether it was in the immediate or distant future.  And it was Oliver’s job to be there for her, to take some of the burden off of her shoulders.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I did.”  Oliver pulled Felicity to him and wrapped his arms around her waist, bending so their foreheads pressed together.  “We’re going to okay, no matter what.  Better than okay, actually.  Together we can handle whatever life throws at us.”

“You sure?”  Felicity’s eyes were watery again.  There was a part of her that was terrified.  And now Oliver could see that it was a mother’s fear for her child, the fear of what this island and their abductors might want from a baby of theirs.

Oliver caught Felicity’s shaking hands and held them to his chest.  “Look, first there is no reason to get ahead of ourselves.  For all we know, your shot is still working and that woman over there didn’t have the same advantage.”

Felicity took a shaky breath, nodding jerkily.  “True.”

And if Oliver had his way, they would be seeing the backside of this island before they even found out for certain.  Yes, that was for the best.  Get Felicity off this island and home.  Then if she were pregnant they could enjoy it, the way it was supposed to be. 

“And if you are…” Oliver’s breath hissed.  Wow, it was harder than he realized to say this out loud, but he really needed Felicity to know that it… _their baby_ would never be unwanted.  He kissed her hands to hide his shaky voice.  “If you _are_ pregnant, then that’s okay too.”

That was all Oliver was able to get out.  He’d planned to say so much more, to make Felicity understand how the two of them having a baby together could never be a bad thing, but his throat closed and wouldn’t allow anything else out. 

All Oliver could do was look at Felicity through lowered lashes and watch her chew on her lip, now wondering how freaked out _she_ was about this whole thing.  If she was thrown by their relationship being hit by the fast-forward button, _again_.  He already knew she was having difficulty with how quickly things were progressing here.  He needed to be prepared for her not being ready for this.  She was so young.  As strong and intelligent as she was, it was easy to forget that fact.

Oliver held his breath and braced himself for Felicity to tell him that she wasn’t ready to be a mother yet.  What would they do then?  The options made him a little nauseous.

“These aren’t exactly the best circumstances,” Felicity whispered and the breath Oliver hadn’t realized he’d been holding escaped in a whoosh.

“This is you and me and those are the best circumstances I can imagine.”  The words were instinctual and impulsive and completely honest.  Oliver just prayed they were the right ones.  

A smile bloomed across Felicity’s face again, her eyes again filling with tears, “I guess that’s true.”

Oliver’s shoulders sagged and he flooded with relief.  If Felicity hadn’t wanted the baby…the possible, _hypothetical_ baby…Oliver didn’t know what he would do.

“I’ll get us all home.  I _swear_ to you.  In one piece.  It will be _fine_.”  Though, anyone who wasn’t Felicity or their child had just dropped on Oliver’s priority list.  Way down.  

Shit, Oliver didn’t even know if this was happening and he could already feel his whole point of view shifting.

Felicity nodded again, vigorously this time, tears falling over.  “How are you even real?  I’m so lucky.  You’re the most wonder—”

Oliver reached for her, pride like he had never felt before swelling inside of him.  In himself.  In her.  In their possibly not so distant future child.  And Felicity met him with equal fervor, pulling Oliver to her, wrapping her leg back around his thigh.  A vague, distant place in the back of his brain told him not to be rough, to be careful, just in case.

But it was hard, so hard, when their tongues were entangled and Felicity kept pulling on the back of his head until their lips were open as wide they could possibly be.  Lips smashed against teeth and tongues wrapped together, exploring the back of each other’s throats and still Felicity tugged Oliver closer.

How was he supposed to be gentle?  He needed to be _gentle._  But Oliver had no idea how he was supposed to hold back.  His blood was rushing and there was a roar in his ears, making it hard to think. 

Oliver bent his knees and wound his arms under her ass, lifting her back up where he… _they_ needed her.  Felicity’s legs wrapped around his waist instantly and it was strange to feel shoes instead of bare feet pressed against the small of his back, but Oliver was grateful for her dress as he pressed her back against the tree trunk, because it protected her skin, though the moss was soft and wet and springy against his hands.

The hours they had spent apart hit Oliver in a flood and, suddenly, he felt like he needed to make up for all those minutes they weren’t able to touch.  He couldn’t get inside her fast enough.  The Beast inside him was being as tender as it knew how to be, but it _needed_ to reaffirm their connection in this primitive way.  It was essential.  How had they waited this long?

It was starting to rain.   He had heard the thunder.  There was an army of clones trying to wrangle a pregnant woman in the distance.  And Oliver really wasn’t one to forgo foreplay.  But…he brushed aside Felicity’s panties and plunged two fingers inside of her.

Felicity’s mouth fell from Oliver’s as she cried out, a long, low moan, barely audible over the roar of the wind and surf.  Her head fell back against the tree.

“This okay?” Oliver panted.  Because, though, they had joked about promised forest sex, this wasn’t exactly the circumstances either of them had imagined.

“Yeah.  Yeah.”  Felicity licked her lips, her eyelids heavy.  The tree mostly shielded them from the rain, but it was dripping through the leaves, trailing down her cheek and mixing with the last of her tears.  “But you had better get inside me quick.  I swear, if you try and pull any of that five-orgasm crap—”

Oliver laughed.  That was the permission he needed.  He yanked at the tie to his pants and shoved them down, boxers and all…and then he was plunging inside her.

“Ahhhhh…” Felicity’s eyes slipped closed, her neck arching.  “God, just when I think you couldn’t be more perfect.  Come ‘ere!”  She grabbed at Oliver’s hair, yanking his mouth back to hers.

It was fast and dirty and Oliver had to struggle to make sure Felicity didn’t scrape her back, moss or no, but his mouth never left hers and they came together, gasping each other’s names in the scant space between their open lips.

Oliver was incredibly grateful that he didn’t have to worry about knotting when reality finally crashed back into his awareness and he realized they were still out in the open, within shouting distance of their captors, in the steadily increasing rain. 

Not to mention, under a tree in a swelling thunderstorm.  Not smart.  Oliver knew better, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“What the hell?”

Oliver arm jerked as it started to buzz.  Felicity pulled her arm from his shoulder, holding her wrist out as well, panting, “The bracelets.”

Oliver stepped back, placing Felicity gently on her feet and waiting until she was steady, or at least firmly help up by the tree, before bending to pull up his wet and, slightly muddy, pants.  As he retied them, he looked over to see a blond man helping the redhead into one of the SUVs.  And, _wow_ , was she pregnant.  No way was he letting Felicity get _that_ pregnant on this damn island.

And, _fuck_ , here came Amy.  Skipping toward them.   There was no weirder creature on this whole bizarre planet than that child.

Felicity smoothed down her dress and pulled back her hair, refreshing the ponytail at her nape as Oliver stepped in front of her, shielding her from the child’s view.  Which was a ridiculous impulse given Amy had seen far worse.

“I’m sorry to cut your time short,” Amy sang, neither looking nor sounding at all sorry.  “But we really need to get back.”  She gestured toward the ominous sky.  Crap, it had gotten dark while Oliver wasn’t looking.

“Of course,” Felicity answered, back into Perfect Captive Cooperation Mode.  But she was still short of breath and her skin held a rosy blush. 

Felicity sent Oliver a heated look that expressed just how glad she was that they had been given these last fifteen minutes to themselves and he had to bite his lip to keep from grinning like a fool.

Oliver nodded at Amy, because that seemed to be what they expected from him.  But as Amy turned to lead them back to the remaining SUV, Oliver looked back into the woods and tried to keep the longing out of his eyes.  There went his whole ‘running off into the woods and living there’ plan.  It was too late now, even if they could get off these damn bracelets. 

That’s what Oliver got for getting distracted.  Though, he would have to rethink the whole thing now with the possibility of Felicity being pregnant.

God.  This was going to take some getting used to.  Oliver wondered how long it would be until they knew for certain.  They couldn’t exactly run to the drug store for a test, or twelve.  And they sure as hell weren’t asking the good ‘doctor’ for one. 

They needed to get home.  But as Felicity started to follow Amy to the SUV, Oliver couldn’t help but smile.

The entire back of Felicity’s dress was now moss green.

Color, Oliver’s color, had triumphed over austere white and it was just the beginning.  It was their first victory among many.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be just a scene, maybe half the length it is now, but I got carried away…or, maybe, a little over indulgent.  I was way too excited about the reunion, I guess.  Reading it over again, I think it’s probably a little repetitive, but my muse and my brain has moved on to other things and I didn’t want to delay this the months it will take to get back on track and fix it.  I also hadn’t planned on a sex scene in this.  They were supposed to be interrupted, but, hey, I figured we all deserved it.  ;-)
> 
>  _Another Kind of Island_ is now officially on hiatus while I focus on _To Sacrifice the Sun_.  I think this is a very nice place to leave this story.  I hope you agree.
> 
> Now comes the part where I shamelessly plug all the other things I’ve been working on and will be coming out soon (and which, I hope, you will check out. :- )
> 
> First, I have _Ifs and Maybes_ , which will be out a week from today.  This is a one shot, post 4x15 story, that was inspired by a lot of the conflict in the fandom over how the break-up was handled. In this, Oliver doesn’t let Felicity just walk out the door and actual feelings are… _expressed_.  It has a hopeful, if not happy ending.  I started writing it, planning to do it “better,” but, in the end, it changed how I thought about a lot of things instead.  Writing is awesome that way. 
> 
> On the opposite end of the fluff/angst spectrum, on Thursday, I plan to post the first installment of _When Locksley Met…_   This is a follow-up series to _Of Redemption and Inebriation_ , a post Season 4 reunion story.  So, in this series, Oliver and Felicity go through Season 5 as a couple.  With a dog.  Who meets different people.  And they react.  To the dog and to Olicity.  That’s the premise.   First up is Roy, picking up directly after OR&I.
> 
> And, finally, my current obsession is _To Sacrifice the Sun_.  I know a lot of people have avoided this due to the extreme angst in the first couple chapters and the infertility themes.  Honestly, I really think this is my best work.  I _love_ this story.  It’s a reuniting, stow-burn love story set in Mayan ruins, a sort of _Agents of Shield_ meets _Indian Jones_ but with a lot more romance than either.  By Chapter 2, it has a lot of humor to break up the angst and I promise that I am not switching back to any other story until the “confession” is posted.  The end I have planned for this will make all the pain worth it. 
> 
> Now that I’ve bored you all to death, I will express my absolute love and appreciation for **Ireland1733,** who keeps me motivated and excited about this fandom and writing in the worst of times.  And to, **Fairytalehearts,** who makes me a better writer.  Period.  End stop.  Get well soon.  I miss you!
> 
> Thank you to each and every one of you who have stopped to comment or leave a kudos.  It is _so_ very appreciated.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  Happy New Year!
> 
> Emmy
> 
> Writing updates are posted at http://emmilynestill.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
>  

**Author's Note:**

> This story was a real challenge for me. I’ve been completely obsessed with it for over a month now and it’s _very_ different from what I usually write. I think I needed a break from the “what happens next” fics that diverge directly from cannon. 
> 
> I challenged myself to create a longer story weaving in all my favorite guilty pleasure tropes. Most of them are very smutty (thus the guilty pleasure) and some of them are not often seen in the Olicity fandom. In some ways, this is an ode to what I miss most about the Marvel fanfics I used to read. Though, I do hope I did something original (ish) here. 
> 
> This isn’t a plot with smut and it isn’t smut with plot. It is (I hope) plot and smut completely entwined so that one cannot exist without the other. So, if that’s not your thing please bail now. 
> 
> Tropes will be added to the tags after they come up so that I can keep some of the mystery going. 
> 
> I’ve been giddy with nervous excitement about posting this, so please let me know what you think! I do try to respond to everyone even if it takes a while. (I’m also super interested in knowing if anyone guessed they were being drugged before Oliver, maybe even back when he was in the limo.) 
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading!  
> Emmy


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